You Will Always Be Mine
by Annacaza
Summary: Tamara Vess is a 26 year-old woman from a privileged family line, currently residing on Coruscant. After meeting the First Order higher-ups, she is offered a prestigious position in the ranks. However, there is one man who relentlessly pursues her, with only one goal in mind. Slow burn, possible rating change - be warned. Set about 1 year before TFA.
1. Chapter 1

She could only see one word in her head: run.

What she was running from, she didn't know. She could make out the thin, black outlines of dead trees around her, and the crunching of the dried leaves beneath her feet. A forest, yes. She was in a forest. Black and a dark blue covered this forest, making clear vision next to impossible. It was nighttime in a creepy, dead forest, and she was running from something. How cliché.

She didn't glance back at what she was running from. There was something inside of her, something primal and instinctive that was forcing her legs to keep moving and her eyes focused in front of her. She scratched the hair away from her eyes, letting it flow out behind her as she ran. Her own figured was black against the forest backdrop, but it was the only thing moving against the stillness.

Then she felt the sudden pang of fear overtake her. Her heart jolted when the dreaded feeling was realized. Her legs faltered, nearly sending her tumbling to the leaves and branches below. She listened for her pursuer behind her, but the sound of her quick but heavy footsteps pounding the ground filled her ears. The uncertainty over what was chasing her only added to her fear, and she pushed herself harder. She needed to get away. Whatever was behind her was dangerous. Her breaths were shortening, but she fought through the burning in her lungs. She could not let whatever was hunting her claim her.

A large fallen log suddenly appeared in front of her, and she leaped over it. However, her foot caught on a small twig that had been sticking out from it, and she felt her weight shift forward as she fell to the ground. She had not anticipated that the ground would drop off steeply behind the log, so she fell on her side harshly, forcing the wind out of her and she groaned in pain. Her mind screamed at her to move. Whatever was behind her was still there, no doubt closing in on her with every passing second. Her arms and legs were too tired to even try to move. The highs of the adrenaline had crashed with her, and now exhaustion would take over.

 _No, it won't._

She could not allow herself to lose. She wanted to give herself the best chance. Lying on the forest floor, waiting to be captured or killed was the easy thing to do, but this girl knew what she needed to do. She grit her teeth as she rolled off of her side and got back on her feet, stumbling as she started back up again. One foot in front of the other. However, she was staggering. Her stride was choppy and she could barely hold herself up. Her legs were far too tired to keep going, and they threatened to give out under her. She dropped to one knee. Her mind was still telling her to go, and she wanted to. She wanted nothing more than to race through the trees, flying over logs and avoiding branches. Her body would not let her, and she felt herself hit the ground again. The forest went silent as she flopped down onto her stomach, arms sprawled.

It was then when she heard the first sign of her pursuer. It dropped down with a loud thud onto the ground, and she guessed that it had just reached the log. She closed her eyes, expecting it to do something as it neared. She had given up. Her body couldn't carry her any further, and now she had to pay the price. Her fate had yet to be decided, but she could only hope that it would be quick. Footsteps walked slowly over to her, accompanied by a faint hum. She felt a twinge of familiarity as it neared. She had heard this humming noise before, but where?

A red light encompassed her, and she could see the faint colour through her eyelids getting brighter and brighter. She could see the light before she felt the heat. Her mind processed it right then. It was a lightsaber, and it was crackling.

"And in the end, running from me got you nowhere," the voice said, making her jump against the leaves. The fear was back again. The voice was modulated to a point where it hardly sounded human. The voice that only belonged to one man in the galaxy, if a man could even be used to describe it. Black and silver, towering and intimidating. Dark sider. Dark enforcer. Jedi Killer. He had many names, but she only knew one.

Kylo Ren.

* * *

The relentless pounding on the door was what woke her up. She shot up, terrified before she realized that she was safe.

"Tamara!" her father's voice boomed from behind.

"Yes, father, I'm up!" she called back, quickly throwing her blankets off of her and shining her legs over the bed. On most days, she didn't want to leave the warm solace that was her bed, but it was different today. The nightmare was familiar, but it scared her every time.

"Get ready quickly, or we'll be late," her father yelled from behind the door.

"Yes, father," she said, rubbing her eyes and pushing her raven black hair away from her face. "I'll be out in a moment."

Tamara stood from her bed, the white lace nightgown that she normally wore to bed dropping down around her knees. She pulled the blackout shades away from the window and looked out over the cityscape. Coruscant was already bustling with life, as it usually was. Airspeeders and transporters flew through the many levels of skylanes, weaving in and out of the massive skyscrapers that the planet was known for. Galactic City never slept. Activity never ceased. Something was always happening. To have a space to call your own was a gift. Tamara would sometimes consider herself lucky for being able to live in the upper levels, but other times she would wish for the excitement of the lower levels. The day had come for a type of excitement that she had not yet experienced in her twenty-six years.

Her life had been privileged from the day she was born. Her family was one of the few Imperial sympathizers that had not been stripped of their titles and wealth. It would have been easy for Tamara to enjoy a life of leisure in an arranged marriage with another Coruscanti family, but she didn't. Sitting back while the galaxy was still in turmoil in the near thirty years since the Empire had fallen was not something she took interest in. She wanted to be active in the political scene. She had worked her way to two university degrees, one in sociology and another in economics. It was her accomplishments that had gotten her noticed by the newest incarnation of the Empire.

She stepped back from her window, allowing more light into her chambers. Her large bed was now covered in the warm orange-yellow light from the sun, and she glanced as the ruffled blankets. The servants would make her bed for her, as they did every day, but she still needed to come down off of her nightmare. She let her hand rest against the soft sheets, and begun to smooth them out. The servants would end p redoing it, but she didn't care. Her fingers itched to do something. Even though her father waited for her, she would push her luck.

 _It's just a meeting._ That was what she kept telling herself. A meeting with the First Order. Her nerves would've been on edge even without the nightmare. It was the fifth time now that she had witnessed it, and every time it ended in the same way. The most feared man in the galaxy would be pursuing her, and every time she became complacent, he would strike.

Kylo Ren.

The name instilled fear in anyone. Just ehe sound of it made her shrink back. She did not want to have to meet with him, but her father had told her exactly what to expect. There were three of them coming to the meeting today, and Ren would definitely be one of them.

"Tamara!" her father's voice made her head snap up and she stared at the door, hoping that he didn't come in.

"I'll be down shortly, father," she said. "I'm just getting dressed."

"Five minutes," he said. "We cannot be late for this."

"I understand, father," she replied, and quickly slipped away into the refresher.

In five minutes, Tamara was descending the stairs down from her room into the common area, where her father stood, pacing and running her hands through his greying black hair. He hadn't yet noticed her, but she would hear him muttering to her mother.

"Everett, you're thinking too much," Louisa said, her voice smooth but quiet. Being firm was not something that Tamra's mother knew. "You are one of the main reasons they exist. It is in their best interest, and ours for that matter, if they do us a favour."

"That's not what I'm worried about," Everett said, and glanced up when he heard the faint clacking of heels on the white staircase. He smiled up at his daughter, his detour changing instantly.

"You look wonderful," he commented, and Tamara gave him a small smile and a nod in thanks. Louisa stood from her spot on the couch and began to straighten up Tamara's hair.

"Mother, I'm sure I look fine," Tamara said. Louisa constantly bustled over her daughter, and it was not something that she intended to break.

"I know," Louisa said. "Fine is not good enough with the First Order. The General, the Commander, and the Captain will be paying attention to the details. You need to look perfect."

Tamara pushed her neatly-curled black hair over her shoulder again while her mother straightened out the red and black dress that Tamara had picked out from her closet. It showed off her figure nicely but was still tasteful. She wanted to remain professional and distance herself from the flowing lace dresses that Louisa had packed her closet full of. The dress reached down past her knees and held its shape well. She knew the colours of the First Order and wanted to represent them, especially since it was in her best interest to present herself in a way that gained the favour of the three that she would be meeting.

It had taken eight years of education for Tamara to have a decent chance at working for the First Order. She never thought of herself as a solider, so anything to do with the military would be difficult for her to understand. However, her father was a major financial backer of the faction, and it had earned him respect in the ranks, even if he was not fully immersed in the environment. She had always wanted to work for the First Order. Being raised in a household that looked down upon the New Republic had made her sympathize with order. Even though it was a military regime, She was confident that she had the knowledge that would bring others to look at the Order in a positive light. Her understanding of the Empire and the Order was rich, and her practical knowledge of sociology and economics could help them target the best planets and groups to bring into their regime.

"Good luck, my dear," Louisa said, stepping back from her daughter, and Tamara nodded toward her before following her father to the door.

* * *

Armitage Hux stood on the polished white steps outside of the meeting hall. He could see across the courtyard, where two massive doors were firmly shut. The residence of Everett Vess lay on the other side of those doors, the general knew. The family had been privileged for a long time, as owning an entire level of a Coruscant skyscraper was not something handed out to just anyone. It would only be a matter of time before of the the First Order's most vital figures would emerge though those doors. He had been waiting to meet the daughter for some time now. Everett talked highly of her in the many meetings he had sat in with the general. It was now time to make a decision on her. He knew little of her, but it only added to his intrigue. He straightened out his First Order cap and tugged lightly on the lapels of his black greatcoat, ensuring that they were pristine. His icy blue eyes settled on the massive doors yet again, but were distracted when a certain figure clad in black shifted next to him.

Two more had joined him on the mission to Coruscant. While it was perfectly normal to bring along one other high-ranking official, bringing two was almost unheard of. However, a prestigious position in the First Order ranks was on the line, and that meant bringing along Captain Phasma, and unfortunately, Kylo Ren.

The dark enforcer was anything but contempt wit his current situation, and it was starting to irritate the general. However, he knew that he must remain placid and professional should Everett and his daughter walk out into the courtyard. The dark enforcer clicked his heels together, once, twice, three times, then settled back down. His masked face was as expressionless and devoid as always, but under the mask, Hux knew that the dark sider was expressive. Seeing Ren without his mask was rare, but Hux knew exactly how Snoke's apprentice presented himself, or at least, how he attempted to present himself. Reckless, emotional, and unstable. Hux had other names for Ren too, but elected to keep those to himself. Unlike most in the First Order ranks, Hux was not afraid of Ren. They weren't friends. They hardly even held respect for one another. Hux was aware of Ren's abilities as every other officer, stormtrooper, and official in the First Order. He had witnessed Ren's destructive tendencies firsthand and had watched as the Force user brought stormtroopers and officers to the brink of death. Many times, Hux had voiced his concerns Snoke only to be met with the same lines. "He is a force for us." "He instills fear into others and will force the galaxy into submission." However, the costs would only rise, both in credits and in life, and there was nothing Hux could do but be obedient to Snoke and simply tolerate Ren's behaviour.

The doors swung open, and Hux stood straight, clasping his hands behind his back. His tiled his chin up – something that his father had taught him long ago. He eyed the black space that had opened between the doors, and out walked two figures. Everett looked the same as he always did. Greying hair, grey eyes, clean-shaven, and dressed sharply in grey pants and tunic with a short black cloak surrounding him. His walk was purposeful, and Hux had always admired the confidence with which Everett carried himself. He never looked afraid, not even when he came face to face with Kylo Ren for the first time, something that many people would balk at. Opinionated, but professional. Everett Vess encompassed everything that the Empire had once been.

Tamara Vess, on the other hand, was different from her father. Hux could tell that she was nervous. She didn't walk with the confidence that Everett did. Her eyes were darting around the courtyard, trying not to make eye contact with him or look into the masks of the two figures that stood to his right. However, she had a quiet confidence about her, and she walked with purpose. She was dressed professionally, just as her father was, and he regarded her carefully as she approached the steps. Everett climbed up in front of her, smiling warmly.

"Armitage," he greeted, and the general returned the smile. Few people could disregard his title, one that he had worked tirelessly to achieve. Everett Vess was one of those people.

"It's very nice to see you again, Everett," the general responded as he shook hands with the other man. "Your last donation was put to good use fortifying one of our battlecruisers, and I am very grateful."

"It was my pleasure," Everett responded. "The galaxy has been in turmoil for far too long."

"Agreed," Hux said, and glanced behind Everett at Tamara, who was standing small, but not cowering. She was simply waiting to be acknowledged. Everett stepped off to the side, and Tamara raised her head, ready to be addressed.

"You must be the daughter I've heard so much about," Hux greeted, and Tamara smiled up at him, extending her hand out to him.

"It's an honour to meet you, General," she said. "I've hear great things about you as well, bringing order back to the galaxy."

Hux took her hand and bowed in front of her, the motion catching her slightly off guard. Never could she thought that the general of the First Order would be such a gentleman to her, yet there was a part of her that wasn't surprised. Her father had always told her about how honourable the general was, having known the elder Hux, Brendol, from the days of the Empire. She regained herself before he straightened back up again.

"The honour is mine, Miss Vess," he responded, letting her hand drop and glancing over at the two others. To his relief, Phasma was now standing closest to him. The chrome-plated stormtrooper captain was observing quietly through her helmet, but Hux could feel that she was not nearly as tense as Ren was. She was always a calming presence, even though she was ruthless. It was what had earned her the coveted title she now sported.

Tamara turned to face the captain and bowed her head slightly. "Captain," she addressed, and Phasma returned the nod.

"Miss Vess, it is a privilege to finally meet you," the captain said. Tamara let herself smile again.

"As I can say to you as well," she responded. The captain stepped back up on the stairs as the final figure made himself known, and Tamara felt her breath catch in her throat. Hux watched carefully, giving Ren a warning glare. While the dark sider did not have his head turned toward the general, Hux knew that the black figure could see his piercing stare.

"Kylo Ren," he said, his deep, modulated voice slightly cracking. Tamara tried her best to suppress the fear rising in her, as standing face to face with the man that starred in her nightmares was not a calming experience.

"An honour to meet you as well, Commander," she said, her words lightly rushed. Ren tiled his head slightly to the side as her regarded her. She swallowed, trying not to squirm under his empty stare. The obsidian mask remained expressionless and black, but she could still feel his eyes on her, if he had any at all. He looked human, but she didn't know what was truly under all those layers of black. She didn't know if anyone did.

Finally, Hux began to walk up the steps, and Ren turned on his heel, following the others. Everett was engaged in conversation with the general, while Phasma and Ren walked in silence to the open doors of the meeting hall. Tamara glanced down at her feet before she let out a breath that she had no idea she had been holding in. Her eyes then narrowed agains as she walked up the stairs, the waves of adrenaline rolling off of her. Phasma and Hux were easy enough to deal with, but having to spend hours with Ren was going to scare her. She knew that she would be in for a long day.

The meeting hall was just as grand as she remembered it from her youth. Her father had always been in meetings, and the place outside of the meeting hall was familiar to her. In the few times Everett had let her cross the courtyard, she had been allowed to wander the building. She had made note of every small crack in the cream-coloured walls. She remembered running her small hands along the duracrete surface, feeling the skin tingling slightly as she pressed harder against the rough texture. However, what lay behind those blast doors were a mystery to her. Never had she gone inside, and as their small party neared them, her mind wandered. She had always imagined it as a room with a massive table. There would be servants there to bring along refreshments should they be required. A hologram would be stationed in the middle, displaying information of all sorts. As a child, she had imagined watching the holonet on it, and sitting at the head of the massive table. Her childhood dream of feeling like royalty still lived on in a part of her.

Everett opened the blast doors, and the three First Order officials walked inside first. She felt his eyes on her, obviously disapproving of her display outside. She avoided his stare, and drew in a breath, giving her a more confident appearance.

The room was different than what she had expected. The table was a perfect circle, made of blue reflective glass. The wall opposite of the entrance was covered in windows overlooking Coruscant's magnificent architecture. A balcony jutted out from the side, and at that moment, she wanted to run to it. She wanted more than a simple table between the dark enforcer that occasionally greeted her in her nightmares. She glanced back at the table. She was right about one thing – the hologram. A projection of Coruscant rotated slowly, outlined in teal lines. She had seen this holo before. It was popular in many households around the planet. Thin lines etched out the various features of the planet, which were mostly just buildings. Tamara had never known anything other than a vast cityscape. She had only seen natural grass and bodies of water for the first time when she was twenty-two and studying at the Corulag University of Economics. The cityscape had taken a beating after the Galactic Civil War, but she found beauty in its natural world. If she had wanted to remain in a planet that was essentially a city, she would've stayed on Coruscant.

The table only had five seats surrounding it, and Tamara quickly took the one closest to her father. The captain sat to her right, but Phasma did not scare Tamara. Phasma was respected, but she wasn't terrifying. She was calm. Ren was the exact opposite. He sat facing Tamara, at opposite ends of the circular table. She tried to avoid looking into the back void that was his helmet, but it seemed to draw her in, somehow. He brushed his hood back from the top of his helmet, letting it fall against his back. She looked over at her father.

"What can I do for you today, general?" he asked. It was then when Tamara was reminded that this was simply a routine meeting. Everett met with the general once a month. Just because the other two leaders were along didn't mean that it was purely an attempt at landing a job. She relaxed slightly.

"Other than the usual, there have been – complications, it would seem," Hux began. "As our name grows, so are the riots, as I'm sure you've seen at the university."

Everett nodded. "None of them have any appreciation for what it is the Order stands for," he commented.

"Dispatching riot troopers would deplete our numbers," Hux continued. "Obviously, the option exists to send in a team to 'break up' these ridiculous demonstrations, but you know as well as I that such an act would cost credits. So I present you this – how do we gain the loyalty of those who are convinced that the New Republic is their saviour?"

Tamara wanted to speak up, but she had to watch what she said. She was not about to make a fool of herself in front of the First Order leadership.

"The New Republic lies to us all," Everett said. "Have the senators you've targeted remaining loyal to the cause?"

"Yes," Hux responded.

"Then use that as a tool," Tamara said speaking up. Hux turned toward her, and she backed down a bit, knowing that the sudden outburst was not appreciated. However, she was not going to stop. "The galaxy cannot handle another war. It nearly destroyed us thirty years ago. Play on that fear. The demonstrations across the galaxy are not large in number. Using the senators to reassure people and to but the protestors in a negative light would sway public opinion. Make the protesters the 'bad guys', as it were."

Hux leaned back in his chair, thinking. Everett felt a swell of pride at his daughter's control and knowledge.

"It's possible," Hux said. "Convincing the senators would take a handful of credits, however."

"You can rely on me for the financial aspects, general," Everett said.

Hux looked at Phasma. "Your thoughts, captain?" he asked.

"I would prefer if my troops were not occupied with riot control more than they already are," Phasma said. "Miss Vess' suggestion is sound. It would need to happen rather quickly."

"Time is not what matters when it comes to swaying public opinion," Tamara said. "It's repetition. Say something enough, and citizens will believe it to be true."

It was then when Kylo Ren decided to speak. "I too will need access to the stormtrooper core," he said. "As Captain Phasma mentioned before, involving the troops in controlling riots is not in our best interest."

Tamra couldn't help but smile. She had never expected praise of this level.

"Then I believe we have our answer," Hux said.

The meeting continued on for hours. Most of the time, Tamara said nothing, but silently listened. On the occasion that she was asked a question, it was mostly informational. "Where did you study?" "How old are you?" "What do you know of the Order?" She answered all of their questions. Everett called for champagne halfway through and Tamara relaxed a bit more. While her uneasiness over Ren still lingered in her mind, it wasn't screaming at her anymore.

"Let's break for fifteen minutes," Everett suggested, which was welcomed by everyone. Tamara wasted no time in picking up her champagne glass and walking out toward the balcony. She needed some time to herself, but mostly, she wanted to distance herself from Ren. She pushed the sliding glass door to the side and stepped over the threshold, instantly becoming enveloped in the bustling scene of Coruscant. The sun, Coruscant Prime, was already on its descent and the sky was darkening. She hadn't even noticed the hours ticking by. She could only imagine how the others felt. Her father had lived most of his life in a boardroom, so he knew how long meetings could last, but the First Order leaders were getting antsy the longer they stayed. Tamara leaned on the railing of the balcony, watching as the airspeeders and private ships flew in the multilayered skylanes. As chaotic as the planet was, it seemed to run like clockwork. The upper levels were a place of happiness and structure, while the lower levels were dark and shrouded in mystery. She sipped some of the bitter champagne, the bubbles making her tongue tingle as she held the liquid in her mouth for a moment. The golden drink was some of the best in the galaxy, and everyone at the table had a glass, with the exception of Kylo Ren. He had elected to keep his helmet firmly placed on his head. Even Phasma had removed her helmet, and her appearance under the chrome mask was just as firm as her mask. She didn't show much emotion, but Tamara didn't expect any emotion from a First Order captain. Short blonde hair and cold blue eyes made up Phasma's appearance, yet she was still intimidating.

"May I join you, Miss Vess?" a smooth male voice asked from behind her. She jumped slightly and turned quickly, but relaxed once she saw the general standing in the doorway, his great coat resting on his shoulders but his arms hung free from it.

"Of course, general," she said, straightening up and making herself more presentable. He walked over to her, looking out over the cityscape just as she was. He held his own glass of champagne which looked barely touched. He had an appearance to keep up, but she was surprised that he wouldn't let himself indulge minimally.

"You're very knowledgable," he commented, keeping his eyes focused on the wide domed structure on the skyline – the Senate building which currently stood empty. Tamara looked over at him, trying to observe all she could about him, looking for anything she could exploit to put herself in a better light.

"Thank you, general," she said. "I'm glad to hear that my eight years of study didn't go unnoticed."

"Tell me something," he said softly, and tore his gaze away to look down at her. "Do you remember your time at Coruscant University?"

"Of course," she said. "It's where I took sociology."

"Yes," he said, nodding. "And there were riots there, correct?"

Tamara had known that the conversation would return back to the galactic riots. "Yes," she said. "Those who believe in the New Republic would sit outside in all of the campus locations, protesting the First Order and their advancements. I don't think there's ever been a point in time where the campus has been without some sort of demonstration. In the days of the Empire, there were riots. In the months and years following the collapse of the Empire, there were riots. Today is no different. But I do believe that villainizing them is the best way to go about silencing them."

Her response was not one that Hux expected. She was much more articulate than he had originally thought.

"You came up with a solution quickly," he said, and turned his body to face her, leaning one arm of the railing. Tamara sipped her champagne again, watching carefully. "I think I speak for my two other comrades when I say that I'm impressed by your knowledge and skills, and I do believe that the First Order would benefit from it. A socioeconomic analyst, I believe would be something you'd excel in. You'd be among the higher-ups, and your voice will be heard. The Finalizer would be your new home, and you would be at the forefront of bringing Order back to the galaxy."

Tamara nearly dropped her champagne glass. While she had come to the meeting with the intention of impressing the First Order leadership, she never would've expected an offer with such prestige.

"I–" she began. "General, I don't know what to say."

He gave her a small smile. "Think about it," he said, straightening up. "I will give you two weeks to consider my offer, at which point I expect an answer."

"Of course, General," she said. "Thank you."

He walked back into the meeting room, and Tamara turned back to the railing, allowing her lips to break out into a massive smile. Her heart raced at the thought of being part of the First Order at such a high rank. Her eight years of study were finally starting to pay dividends. In one final motion, she down the rest of her champagne before walking back into the room.

* * *

It was dark when the meeting concluded. Tamara hadn't spoken much after the break, still glowing after the offer from the general. Along with the light buzz from the several glasses of champagne she had, her fears of the man sitting across from her subsided slightly. She had made a point to not speak too much for fear of him watching her. She didn't know if the expressionless mask was better or if she would prefer his face, if he even had one. As far as she knew, he was human. Even with his cowl off, she saw no skin on him at all. The general and the captain were similar in that their hands were gloved and their uniforms and armour did not show anything. The only thing that Tamara had noticed was when she was standing outside on the balcony and she saw what looked to be dark hair coming out from the back of Ren's helmet. Still, she was unsure about this man. He was still one of the most dangerous people in the galaxy, being one of the few Force users left.

Just as they had met, they were leaving each other in the same manner – on the steps outside of the meeting hall, the courtyard empty. Everett talked with the general as they descended the stairs if they were old friends while Phasma and Ren walked silently. Tamara stayed close to her father, eyes on the dark enforcer. His hands were clenched at his sides, something that seemed to be a constant with him.

"I assure you that your credits will not go to waste," Hux said, stopping on the stairs. Tamara walked down a few more steps before she paused, electing to bid the leadership farewell.

"I know they will," Everett said.

Hux turned to Tamara and gave her a smile. "It was a pleasure to meet you," he said.

"As it was to meet you," she responded. "All of you. Thank you."

Hux tilted his chin back up to address Everett. "I will be returning in two weeks," he said.

"I look forward to it, Armitage," Tamara's father said, and stepped forward to shake the general's hand. Tamara stood back, only watching.

"Safe flight back to the Finalizer," Everett said, and stepped back down to stand with his daughter.

"Good night," Hux said.

With that, the two Coruscanti turned and walked down the stairs, heading back to the apartment. It didn't take Everett long to break the silence.

"What happened on the balcony?" he demanded. Tamara just smiled to herself.

"Exactly what I wanted," she said. "He offered me a job as a socioeconomic analyst because of my ability to problem solve and to try and paint the New Republic as the disorderly government that they are."

Everett once against felt a swell of pride. "Wonderful," he said. "Your mother will be very happy to hear that you've found a position in the First Order ranks."

Tamara didn't dare mention that she hadn't yet accepted the offer. Her father wouldn't stand for it. Instead, she just let her mind wander, relaxed about her professional career for the first time in her life.

* * *

 **Hey guys! Been a little while since you've heard anything from me, over a year! That time left me with hardly any time to write, as 8 months of that was taken up by my first year of university (and I have just started my second year). I've been working on an outline for this story for over a year, and it's still not done, but I know where I want to go. I wanted to try and write a story that's a bit different than the other KyloxOC stories that I've seen, so let me know if you enjoyed it. Love you guys!**


	2. Chapter 2

An uneventful two weeks followed the meeting. Tamara didn't need to think about the General's proposal. She had decided the moment she had entered her room that night. The only thing that was holding her back was the prospect of having to deal with a man she feared more than anything. However, she had been given two weeks to talk herself out of it. The General would be arriving shortly.

The nightmare had plagued her again the night before. Her confidence wavered with each night he visited her in her dreams. She used to fall asleep wondering what worlds she would dream up in the hours she had to herself. It always ranged. From the frigid temperatures of Hoth to the sweltering heat of Jakku, she was sure that she had lived in every planet in the galaxy. Now, there was a twinge of uncertainty as she drifted off to sleep. She would wonder if he would be there, pursuing her through an unnamed forest. He would always catch her, no matter how many times she tried to avoid him. A hidden root would catch her toes. A branch would lash around from the bushes and smack her in the stomach, knocking her to the ground. Never was she in control of her destiny in the nightmare.

"Watch it," Tamara hissed as one of the servants tugged her hair a little too harshly.

"Apologies, miss," the servant replied, her voice small compared to that of her superior. Tamara never tried to make those that worked for her family any less than what they were. Some of them had been serving the Vess family since her youth. But today, her patience was thin. She watched her unchanging face in the mirror as the woman pinned her coiled black hair up on one side, arranging it in a crown-like shape. Even though she was fairly secure in this opportunity, appearance was critical. It was something that her father had drilled into her from a young age. The Corscanti elite were always attempting to make their appearances more extravagant than the others in a display of wealth and power. She had never been one for petty competition such as the one her parents constantly engaged themselves in. While her life as part of the elite promised luxury and security, she had always wanted to do something with her life. Studying was the one thing she could throw herself into. She would always be a part of the the Coruscanti elite even if she worked for the First Order.

Two low beeps from her comlink indicated that her time was running short. The women behind her stepped back.

"What do you think, Miss?" she asked, waiting on Tamara's word.

"It's lovely," Tamara said with a smile.

"I know that the General will adore it," the servant said. "Good luck."

Tamra nodded and dismissed the other woman. Her dress was waiting for her, hanging on the outside of armoire. It was red, cut to the knees and cut diagonally across the chest. The one shoulder strap was dressed up in a frilly red lace. It was simple, but that's all Tamara wanted. She knew that the key to the day would be confidence.

Quickly, she dressed, arranging everything so it was accustomed to her liking. She closed her eyes, drawing upon her inner strength to give her confidence. While she was not intimidated by the General, she was not about to take their meeting lightly. She needed to exude the same confidence that she had two weeks ago.

* * *

"My apologies, Armitage, I don't know what is taking her so long," Everett said, a hint of annoyance in his voice. He rose from his chair, glancing up the spiralled stairs that led to his daughter's room.

The First Order General was standing with her arms clasped behind his back, as was his usual posture. He was staring out the large windows that overlooked coruscant's federal district. "Don't worry about it, Everett," Hux said, not turning to face the older man. "There is no rush."

Everett sat back down again, slightly put off. He seemed to be growing more and more anxious by the moment, drumming his fingers on his knee. "Can my wife get you anything?" he asked, breaking the silence mere seconds later. "Tea perhaps?"

"That's okay," Hux said, starting to be put off with Everett's neurotic behaviour. The general brushed off his charcoal grey uniform before her turned his attention back to the Coruscant skyline. One day, the First Order would rule this planet, just as the Empire once did. The Core worlds were the most difficult to claim, but they held the most power. Strategy would need to be employed if they were to fall into his hands.

 _One day,_ he thought to himself.

"I'm going to send someone up to fetch her," Everett said, standing up, and Hux turned his body slightly, keeping the elder Vess in his sights.

"That won't be necessary, father," a female voice floated down from the stairs. She descended them slowly, her hand lightly touching the railing as she stepped down further with each second. She was much more confident than the firs time Hux had seen her. Perhaps it was because Ren wasn't there. He was fortunate to not have to bring the dark sider along too often. Today, the General had left on his own with only his shuttle and two stormtroopers to accompany him. He stepped away from the window, now facing the stairs.

Tamara reached the bottom and glanced once at her father, who was giving her a disapproving look. She ignored him, not wanting to start anything with her potential new employer standing ten feet from them. "Good morning, general," she greeted.

"Good morning, Miss Vess," he returned with a nod of his head.

She paused, placing her hand on the back of the sofa. "I hope I didn't keep you too long," she said, her voice unwavering.

"Not at all," he said, his eyes like ice as he regarded her carefully. She recognized what he was doing. He was looking for any sign of weakness. You won't find it, Hux, she thought to herself.

"Shall we walk?" he asked, walking over to her, maintaining his regal posture. "I have something I'd like to discuss with you."

"Of course," she said with a nod. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her father nervously watching. Everett seemed to be much more involved than his daughter was.

Hux offered her his arm, and she slipped her own around it, her hand hanging limp. She let him lead, not even acknowledging the stares from her parents. She knew to act submissive. She didn't need to be told that the General would try to hold his power over her.

The apartment was connected to a small garden – the only source of green Tamara knew of on Coruscant. The sun was behind the building, leaving the garden in the shadows, and the frigid, damp air was more like mist. However, it was private. She would come down to it quite often when she needed to escape from the house, having been hemmed inside all day or after a particularly loud shouting match with her father.

Hux broke the silence first. "So, you've considered my offer?" he asked.

"I have, general," she said with a nod, though she kept her gaze directed forward. The two of them continued to walk through the cropped grass, over to where a stone railing separated them from nothingness. The drop-off was steep, but offered a fantastic view of the city below.

"And you have an answer," he stated. She was able to catch the lack of influx in his tone. It was a power move, meant to intimidate someone. However, she had already been convinced, and its effect fell flat.

"Yes," she said. They reached the railing and he dropped his arm, letting her hand fall away from him. She placed it down on the sand-coloured duracrete railing, looking out across the planet. "I will be accepting it."

Armitage Hux let a small smile break out on his face. It looked almost unnatural on him, as a First Order general wouldn't have much to smile about. She said nothing, but carefully observed him out of the corner of her eye.

"Wonderful," he said. "I'm pleased that you've found the Order to suit your tastes."

"I am too," she said. "I'd just like to thank you for the generous offer."

Hux propped his elbows up on the railing, following her gaze out across the architecture-laden planet. "As I said to you two weeks ago, your knowledge and quick thinking is impressive," he said.

Tamara took the compliment in silence. The two of them didn't speak for a few moments; Tamara was revelling in the feeling of finally achieving something out of her studies and the general was simply building a dramatic air around him. He straightened up, allowing his gloved hands to run across the barrier. He carefully considered his options of when to speak next. The girl beside him seemed to be in another world, and he wanted her to come crashing back.

"We will be leaving tomorrow morning," he stated matter-of-factly, and waited for her reaction. Her eyes widened ever so slightly, and she turned her head quickly to face him. He fought to suppress a small grin. Finally, she had let her guard down.

"So soon?" she asked.

"Yes," he confirmed, and turned away from her, clasping his hands behind his back and beginning to pace. "There is much work to be done. Surely you didn't think that I'd be coming back two weeks from now to fetch you?"

Tamara blinked. "Apologies if I sounded that way, general," she said. She had to backtrack now, try to find a way to appease him. "I'd like to get started as soon as possible, but I have a few questions."

"I can answer them if you'd like," he said, turning back to face her. "But I believe that you need some breakfast and time to pack. I'll leave you to it."

She pushed herself off of the rail to follow him, and he watched her as she approached. Both of them seemed to be engaged in a chess match with each other, looking for any signs of weakness. Tamara was looking for it so that she could exploit it if and when she needed to, while Hux was looking for how composed she could be. She would be a senior officer after all; her needed to know if she could always keep her game face on. So far, each of them had found minimal things wrong with each other, yet they were still locked in a mental battle.

"My mother and father are waiting for us as we speak," she said. "Shall we not make them wait any longer?"

He offer her his arm again, mostly for appearance, but Tamara didn't mind. She too was doing it as a move in order to prove to her father and mother that she was not going to be someone who submitted easily. Hux had taken notice of the silent feud that had been going on between father and daughter, and the subtle glances they would shoot one another. He had not commented on any of it, but had made a mental note. He would strategize later.

Tamara gripped the inside of his elbow gently, and the two of them walked back across the garden. She took note of every little flower and sapling in the thin layers of soil, wondering when she would be able to return to it all. She knew that the First Order was strict. It was no secret. Still, she knew that she would miss the various quirks of the halls, the stairs, the outdoors, and the rooms that she had called home for twenty-six years. She dropped her gaze slightly as the pair walked slowly back into the apartment.

* * *

"What exactly does this entail?"

Tamara was leaning back casually in the spacious armchair, her hands wrapped around a hot cup of tea. She had decided to give the formalities a break for now. The two were now sitting in a small foyer close to her room. The General seems uninterested in his surroundings, but she needed answers.

"You'll be stationed on the Finalizer," the General responded, lifting a gloved hand to support the side of his head. "Your days will be two cycles long, so twelve hours. Many of the prestigious officers work at that capacity."

Tamara tapped her fingers lightly against the white mug. She stared down into the dark liquid, thinking. She had considered the position for a while, but she had a limited understanding of the inner workings of the First Order.

"When would I be expected to start?" she asked.

Hux seemed bored, yet he answered anyway. "Two days from now," he said. "Tomorrow, we'll depart for the Finalizer and you'll have a day to get settled. The next morning, you'll be expected to begin at oh-six-hundred sharp."

Tamara nodded, taking a sip of her tea. It was still warm, even though she had been stirring it for quite a while without once drinking from it. She was too busy going over scenarios in her head. There was one question nagged her, but she didn't know how to articulate it without sounding frightened. She knew that the General was carefully observing her, searching for any cracks in her exterior. She had been trained from a young age about the elites in the galaxy. She had impressed him so far.

"What about Kylo Ren?"

The question snapped Hux's gaze back to her. He ran his thumb along the tips of his fingers, wondering if he should even answer her question or not.

"What about him?" he questioned.

"What business will he have with me?" she responded.

"Hopefully, none," Hux responded. "You will see him on the Finalizer. He should not be any concern to you. He is, however, your superior."

Tamara nodded again and set her tea mug down on the table beside her. Nothing scared her more than the possibility of working under a man that had visited her in her nightmares just the night before. She had to consider all of her options, of which there were few. All she had wanted was to land a position in the First Order. It seemed to be something that would be able to seize power in a way that the New Republic couldn't. Stability was what she craved, but it would come at a cost. She glanced up to the General. She needed this job. Slowly, she rose to her feet and smoothed the fabric of her dress back against her legs.

"I'll prepare for the shuttle," she said.

Hux stood up, instantly towering over her. "I'll be here at oh-eight-hundred," he said, picking up his greatcoat and draping it over his shoulders.

"And I'll be ready."

* * *

It didn't take long for Tamara to have her things ready. The servants had worked quickly, packing anything she considered to be vital. Her bags were sitting beside her door, waiting for the next morning. Night had fallen over Galactic City, but it was still humming with life. Tamara watched, taking it all in. This was her last night. She would be on the Finalizer in mere hours. No longer would she fall asleep to the buzzing of activity outside. Instead, she would be looking out at the stars. She wondered if she would miss the city. It had a certain charm to it, though she didn't romanticize Coruscant like the rest of the galaxy seemed to. To her, it was home, nothing more. Sure, it had once been the galaxy's capital, but that predated her. She had never known the days of the Empire. She only knew the instability of the New Republic.

Her hands rested on the windowsill as they had done so many times before. She had already said goodbye to her beloved servants. She had walked the house, looking at all the places she had considered to be special. She had spent a while in the garden, just sitting. There was nothing else she wanted to do but take it all in for the last time. She would be lying if she said that she didn't feel the stab of sorrow in her throat. Leaving her home would be tough. She had never known anything else. The few years she had lived on Corulag had come with some lonely times, but she had always known that she would be coming back. Now, she didn't know when she would be back. The First Order didn't account for holidays.

Tamara stepped back from the window. Moments like these were always bittersweet. She knew that she could stand and watch the airspeeders all night, but she wanted to ensure that she looked well rested for the General tomorrow. Even though she wasn't going to be working the next day, first impressions mattered. She would be meeting new people tomorrow; some would be her superiors, some would not. While she was not joining the First Order to make friends, getting people on her side quickly wars ould assist her in getting ahead.

She walked over to her bed and brushed her curled black hair away from her face. After tonight, this wouldn't be her bed anymore. This wouldn't be her room anymore. She sat down on the edge of it before she fell back against the blankets, staring up at the white ceiling. She felt sleep tempting her, but she didn't want to fall into its clutches – at least, not yet. She wanted to take in the room she had lived in for twenty-six years one more time before she would leave it behind. But she wouldn't hold out for long. Sleep took her eventually.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys. Sorry this one is so short. As you may have heard, my hometown recently suffered an attack on September 30th when someone drove a van into a crowd of people on the main street downtown. 5 people were injured and the suspect stabbed a police officer before running away. While I personally wasn't there at the time (I'm currently in another city in the province at university), I was only 5 days away from returning home for a week when this attack happened. I really wanted to make this chapter longer, but I was so angry when I found out about the attack that I didn't want to write a lot in case I started to ramble too much. I'll try to update as soon as I can.**

* * *

He visited her in her dreams that night. But this time, it was different. There was no running. There was no pain. There seemed to be peace for the first time in her mind.

That peace, however, did not last long. She was standing in a windowless room. Gone were the formal wears that she was usually adorned with. Now, she wore black. Just black. Much like the man standing in front of her.

"Is there any reason for this?" she asked. It surprised her how confident she was. She still felt the sharp, pressing feeling of panic against her chest, but she didn't run. She didn't think it would matter much. He had far too much of an advantage over her. Not to mention that he was her commander. She had to do whatever it was that he wished. All she could wish for was that his demands were simple.

"You will see the value in this meeting in time, Miss Vess," the modulated voice came out. She jumped as it cracked ever so slightly. She could only see his back, and his shawl was pulled up over his helmet. His arms hung limply at his sides, though his gloved hands were curled into loose fists. It was something that she had come to expect. She eyed the deadly weapon that peeked out from behind the cascade of black robes at his hip. She had seen the holos of it in use, and she had grown wary of it before she had even seen it. She wondered if he had ever used it on any of his comrades. She had heard stories of the destruction he left in the wakes of his tantrums. Anger seemed to fuel him. She had to be careful with how she dealt with him. Anything could set him off at anytime, and if that time came, she did not want to be on the receiving end of his lightsaber.

He lifted his head and brushed the shawl off of the back of his helmet. Somehow, he didn't seem to be so intimidating with it. She could even see an inconsistency lining the back of his head. Hair? It was curled, and of course, black. She had always assumed he was human, but she had never had the conformation of the belief. He seemed to steely compared to that of a human, yet it seemed strange to her. She felt as though she was witnessing something that she shouldn't be.

He turned around suddenly, making her step back. Her sharp eyes were watching him, and he could feel them boring holes into his robes. However, she was afraid. Her jaw was tense and her eyes constantly moved back and forth, waiting for another movement. She was trying to stay confident, but it was faltering. He stepped closer to her, and he watched as she reeled back, not moving her feet, but it was enough of a motion to be noticed. He noted it and walked to her side, ensuring to close the distance between them as much as he could though he didn't touch her. They stood shoulder to shoulder for a moment.

"The General seems to think very highly of you," Ren spoke. His voice was steady, even though the modulator.

She turned her eyes to him, but kept her head and body facing forward. "He doesn't have much of a choice," she said. "He owed my father a favour; this was him repaying his debts."

"If that's what you believe," he said, stepping forward again. He was behind her now, and she visibly tensed. He had expected her to, but he still kept his distance. She was predictable, but only to an extent. He couldn't count out the possibility of her turning and trying to hit him, or something similar. Not that she would get far. He had always been able to anticipate his opponent's actions, and it had saved his life more than once. His Force ability, while helpful, was not the extent of his knowledge.

"Please," she said. "Just let me return to my station."

"You will return when I allow you," he stated rather sharply. He was at her other side now, still too close for her liking, but she felt as though she couldn't move away. There was something keeping her in place.

"I am losing out on precious time that I could use to better the First Order," she said. "As I was brought on this ship to do."

"What you do does not concern me," he said. "You have done nothing for us. I am not interrupting anything _important_."

He spat the last word, and though the effect was lost slightly through the modulator, he was close enough that she could almost hear the unprocessed words behind the mask. She turned quickly to face him, but he walked away.

"Sir, with all due respect, my area of expertise is one that you do not share," she said, but her voice was close to failing her.

"I never implied otherwise," he said. "What I am stating is fact. The General whom to you seem to fawn over agrees. I don't know why he even gave you a chance."

She was slightly taken aback by his comment. "There's a difference between fawning over and respect," she said.

"And you do not know the difference. But you shouldn't have to worry about that anymore."

With that, he tugged the shawl back over his hood and pulled his lightsaber from his hip.


	4. Chapter 4

Tamara's sleep was uneasy, but she had come to expect that. Rarely did she feel refreshed after a vivid nightmare. She sat up in her bed, propping herself up on her elbows. The General would be making his appearance soon, and she would be settling herself in a new place. She was nervous, but not because of the job. Kylo Ren scared her more than any nerves concerning her new position ever could.

She knew she couldn't put it off forever, and she eventually tossed the blankets off to the side, staggering over to the window. The sun was just starting to rise, and she watched as the activity of the day began to pick up. She would miss this view – there was no question about it. The few things that she knew about the inner workings of the First Order told her that they did not have an official planetary base, and she would be spending most of, if not all of her time on the Finalizer. She had rarely been out in open space, and now it would be her home. She would look out into an endless sky of black and white, and for a moment, she wondered if she would ever set foot on Coruscant again.

She was snapped out of her thoughts by her bedroom door opening. She knew exactly who it was before she turned around.

"Armitage will be here in thirty minutes," her father's gravelly voice boomed. "I suggest hurrying along."

"I'll be ready for it, father," she said, still not turning around.

He shut the door and she placed her hands on the windowsill, glancing down. The dreams had her slightly on edge, but she needed to bury it. She was not going to let the General see through her. She just hoped that the Finalizer was big enough that she didn't have to deal with Ren on a consistent basis. She stepped away from the window, knowing her time was dwindling down.

hr

Hux arrived at 0800, just as he said he would. For the second day in a row, he stood in the living area of the Vess residence, but did not have to wait. Tamara was sitting on the couch when her father had gone to the door. She stood respectfully as the General walked in.

"Good morning, Miss Vess," Hux greeted with a nod of his head.

"Good morning, General," she returned. She wasn't dressed up as she had been the previous day. He long, curly black hair fell to her shoulder blades, not altered or pinned up in any way. She was dressed in a plain black blouse and black pants with a red cowl that bunched around her neck.

"Can I get you anything, Armitage?" Everett asked.

"I won't be staying long," the General responded sharply. Everett took the hint, and quickly backed away, leaving Tamara and Hux alone in the living room.

"I hope you're ready for today," he said, walking over to her.

"As ready as I'll ever be, General," she said. He could tell that she was different than the previous day just from how she carried herself. She was cowering slightly, and although he enjoyed being able to have control over her, he still wanted to make sure that she wasn't about to back out on him.

"Is something bothering you?" he asked. He tried to feign concern, and it wasn't lost on Tamara, but this was a game. If she wanted to stay on his good side, then she would have to figure her way through it. She had considered it to be a strength of hers, but now that she stood before one of the most powerful men in the galaxy, she was unsure.

"No," she said. She tilted her head up and brushed a stray curl away from her face. "No, nothing's wrong. I'm just thinking about the day ahead. It's a big change."

"I'm sure," the General said. He didn't try to hide the fact that he was bored, but this was necessary. He wasn't going to act like her friend anymore. She worked under him now, and this was the first introduction to her new position.

Tamara turned her head over her shoulder as two of her servants walked toward the door, her bags in hand. Hux saw them too, and walked over to them, his strides powerful and confident. The two women flinched and cowered as the General approached. Everett was not necessarily the kindest man with any of them, and Hux's demeanour was similar to her father's. She gave both of them an apologetic look.

"Make sure that you don't stretch the floor of my shuttle," he hissed. "And get going. My time is precious."

Both of them hurried out the door, not needing to be told twice. Hux turned back to her, and his features softened slightly.

"You won't have to deal with humans anymore," he said. "Droids act as servants to the officers. Much less wasted energy when it comes to droids, and they're much more efficient."

Tamara only nodded and forced a smile, not wanting to comment. She had grown to love the handful of women that had essentially raised her. They were like family to her, but she was in no place to tell the General to back off. She was not going to squander this opportunity.

Everett and Louisa walked into the room next, and Hux backed away from Tamara. The family was not very close, but compared to what he had been through, she was living the dream. He shuddered at his own memories of his father, and watching Everett now, he could see the pride regarding his daughter. Hux had always wanted his own father to acknowledge him in that way, but it didn't matter now Brendol Hux had been dealt with some years ago, though the details were kept quiet. He wanted it to remain that way.

"Good luck, Tamara," Everett said as he placed his hand on his daughter's shoulder. Tamara gave him a nod, and turned to give her mother a hug. Though she was confident that this was not the last time they would meet, it was still heart wrenching to move away from home after twenty-six years. Louisa was trying to keep herself together, especially in front of the First Order general, but the cracks were starting to show through. Tamara gave her a sad smile.

"Take care of yourself, mother," she said, and stepped back.

"You take care of yourself too, Tamara," Louisa said.

"I'll talk to you in a few weeks again, Armitage," Everett said, shaking the General's hand.

"I look forward to it," Hux said with a genuine smile, then turned to look at Tamara, who was pulling on her heavy read coat. She left the hood of her cowl down. "Shall we?" He offered her his arm.

"Yes," Tamara said, taking him up on his offer.

The pair turned and walked toward the open door. Tamara glanced over her shoulder once before crossing the threshold. The life that she had known was all but gone. Now, the newest chapter in her life was ready to begin.

Tux's shuttle was docked at the Vess' own docking bay. Her father's shuttle sat there as well, unused for months. It paled in comparison to Hux's shuttle. Two stormtroopers stood outside, one wearing a red plate on the shoulder, guns pressed to their didn't know why she was surprised to see them; after all, the General was high enough in rank to warrant his own bodyguards. She had only seen stormtroopers in holos, and to see them for the first time was strange to her. They were pristine in nature with not a single thing out of place. Hux paid them no attention as he walked up the ramp, and they both turned in unison, following them up the ramp. Obviously, the troopers that the General took with him had to be high in the ranks.

The shuttle itself was fairly neutral and plain in colour, and the room in which they stood offered seating for ten others.

"Get us back to the Finalizer, and make it fast," Hux said to the stormtroopers. Without a word, they obeyed and walked into the cockpit. The door shut, leaving the General and Tamara alone once again. He settled down in one of the seats, keeping an eye on her. Tamara glanced around the interior of the room first before she took a seat across from the General.

"You're still tense," he observed.

She ran through the possible answers in her head. She could come clean and tell him that the real reason she was so timid was because of the fact she would be working under Kylo Ren. She could pass it off as nerves because she was moving away from home. Or she could blame it on her intense dislike of flying. However, the General was a sharp man. Lying was something he was trained to pick up on.

"It's…about Kylo Ren," she said.

Hux rolled his eyes. The dark warrior and him had been butting heads more often than not in the past two weeks. "What about him?" he pressed.

"He just…frightens me, that's all," she said. "I know that's his intention, and I know that I'll have to get over it, but it's difficult."

Hux couldn't say the same. In the beginning, Ren had been intimidating. To a certain extent, he still was. But the General was not afraid of the dark sider. He was an equal.

"Don't concern yourself with Ren," Hux said simply. "If he steps out of line, I will be the first to handle it and bring it to the attention of Supreme Leader Snoke."

It was hardly comforting, but at least it was something. Now, she was curious. Who exactly was Kylo Ren? Why was he allowed to get away with so much?

Under her, the shuttle lurched and began to turn, readying itself to blast off back to the Finalizer.

"What is his role?" Tamara asked.

"He exists outside of the official ranks," Hux answered, his voice growing irritated. Tamara knew she had to be careful, but she was in too far to stop.

"Then how is he able to command?"

Hux glanced up at the ceiling of the shuttle. "He's Leader Snoke's right-hand man," he responded. "They're both Force users, and Ren is supposedly incredibly powerful." He shrugged his shoulders. "I personally don't care much for the use of the Force. The only reason I believe in it is because I've seen Ren manipulate things with it. Force users don't make good soldiers."

Tamara nodded. She could tell that Hux was wary of the Force, and to an extent, she was too. She had never understood it. She only knew what her father had told her about the Jedi and their controlling, passive ways. But they were all but extinct now. Only the dark side of the Force existed, as far as she knew. However, that was not what was interesting her. She had picked up on Hux's negative feelings toward Ren during the meeting two weeks ago, and now, those feelings were brought to the surface once again. She made a mental note of it. If she knew what one of his weaknesses were, she could gain the upper hand should she need it. Of course, the fact that it regarded Ren was hardly an ideal situation, as it meant getting on his good side. She wasn't unconfident in her ability to gain favours, but Ren would be a challenge. She had hardly exchanged any words with him, and knew nothing other than fear.

"A word of advice," huh said, snapping her out of her thoughts. "He has a short fuse. Anything could set him off, and he's destructive. More than once I've had to replace equipment because of him, and my staff have been choked over the smallest things. If you'd like to remain on the living side, keep your distance from him. His respect is limited, if he even has it in his personality, and officers, no matter their rank, are often his targets."

"I understand," she said, and allowed herself to lean back against the seat.

hr

The Finalizer was even more massive than Tamara could've ever imagined. She had seen holos of the cruisers before, but never had she seen one in front of her, much less been on one. Big couldn't even begin to describe it. She felt like a child, wide-eyed, staring as they neared it. Specks of light became massive windows, and dots of black became docking bays. The shuttle approached, and she settled back down in her seat. She knew that it was unprofessional to stare, but Hux didn't seem to call her out on it. He seemed to be acting indifferent, mostly consumed by the information being displayed on his data pad. Since their takeoff, all he had done was stare at it. She assumed that it was because he had been off of the Finalizer for an extended period of time, and needed to get caught up on the various happenings. Of course, she was in no place to ask him, not that she necessarily cared anyway.

The docking bay was bustling with activity – officers and stormtroopers marching formation, higher-ranked officials overseeing the swarm of activity. The floor seemed to buzz with life, both human and droid.

"This is one of two starfighter bays," Hux said, standing up as the shuttle touched down. "As you can see, they are fairly busy. You probably won't be needing to come to one very often, however."

Tamara stood up as well, glancing around for her bags. "I'll have droids gather your things," Hux said, her movements not going unnoticed. "They'll be brought to your quarters. For now, I believe that you'll want to have a look at where you'll be working come tomorrow."

"Yes, that would be wonderful," she said with a nod.

The two walked off the shuttle and into the bustle of activity on the floor below them. Hux walked in front of her, his greatcoat hanging off his shoulders and his arms behind his back. Everyone who saw him instantly stepped out of his way, going him a nod of acknowledgement. Never once did he flinch. He stared directly ahead at the exit of the hangar. Tamara felt out of place, and she could feel the stares. Perhaps a bright red cowl and jacket was not the greatest thing to wear. However, it couldn't be changed now. She was fully invested in the First Order now.

They walked out of the massive hangar and into the much smaller hallways of the Finalizer. They felt claustrophobic compared the sheer size of the hangars. The corridors were filled with First Order personnel, rushing to get to their destinations. She glanced down at her feet as mouse droids raced by her, and she attempted to step out of their way. For a moment, she was thankful that Hux was walking in front of her and couldn't see her ludicrous balance display.

"The senior staff have their quarters located near the command bridge," he said as she walked up to his side. "You'll be located there. It makes for an easy commute."

Tamara watched as endless streams of personnel strode by her, each one of them giving the General a nod of acknowledgement. While large amounts of people was definitely not a new concept to her, it made her curious. The Finalizer was not nearly as big as the places in Coruscant that she had frequented during her time there.

"How many people are stationed here?" she asked.

"Around eighty-two thousand," he stated proudly. "Most of them are just enlisted personnel. The rest are officers and stormtroopers."

"Seems like a lot to keep track of, in my opinion," she said, half to herself.

"We work in four segments of the day," he said. "You will be working from oh-six-hundred to eighteen-hundred. There is always activity on these ships. It's just something you'll have to get used to."

"I see," she said, and followed him into a lift. The two of them stood in silence as it lifted them up to the higher levels, nearing the bridge. To Tamara, it was overwhelming, but also exciting. She finally got to start in a career that she had prepared for her entire life. The ship seemed big enough that she could avoid Ren if she needed to. She wanted to keep her contact with him as minimal as she possibly could, mostly because she didn't know if she was safe. What if he decided to turn on her like he had with the staff that Hux had mentioned previously? Would he hurt her? She didn't doubt it. He hardly seemed human. However, the more she thought about it, the more the question persisted in her mind.

"Does Ren have his quarters in the same area I will?" she finally asked. Hux turned his head toward her. He had been expecting the question – he just didn't know how long it was going to take for her to ask it.

"Yes," he said. "Don't worry too much about it. You don't have a military position and shouldn't need to report to him very often. He spends most of his time on the bridge or training anyway, so you won't run into him frequently either."

She relaxed a bit at his answer, satisfied enough with it that she didn't need to be so uptight for now. The lift stopped, and Hux walked confidently out of it, through two sets of open blast doors and into the Finalizer's main control bridge.

"All the stations below are for the petty officers," he said, gesturing to the men and women who had their heads down staring at their assigned consoles. Some of them spoke into their headsets while others were silent. None of them looked up as she walked near their heads. Out the huge viewscreens that covered the furthest wall from her, she could see the slight curve of Coruscant's blue and gold surface.

"You'll be in those offices," he said, looking over to the right hand side of the room, where glass-encompassed rooms lined the wall. Some of them were occupied, though not all of them.

"The staff that work for the First Order outside of the military hold those rooms," he said. "As you can see, there are very few of them, but they're critical to the success of our regime. Your office will be in the middle there, four down from the viewscreens."

Tamara took in the busy scene of the bridge. "What do the others do?" she asked.

Hux ushered her out of the bridge area, back toward the lift. "One coordinates our medbay," he said. "The others do general staff coordination. They were the ones that found you as a candidate."

They stopped at the lift, and Tamara stepped slightly in front of Hux. He glanced down at her and raised an eyebrow, confused at her sudden power move.

"I thought you owed my father a favour, and that's why I was brought on," she said.

"That factored in," Hux replied. "There were other ways I could've settled the favour, but this was a two-birds-one-stone situation. And I think the right choice was made."

She stepped back and followed the General into the lift. While his answer was not the one she had hoped to hear, she couldn't help but think that she had been found in a galaxy of many others. There weren't many in her position she knew, but the First Order would be stupid to not look at others before her.

"I think you need some time to get settled," he said, breaking the momentary silence. "I'll show you where your quarters are and you can rest for a while."

"That sounds good," she said with an accompanying nod. Even though the day had not been long by any stretch, she could feel herself mentally tiring. Taking in so much information all at once was taxing no matter who was on the receiving end. She began to let her mind wander, thinking about what the residential areas of the ship could look like. So far, she had been impressed with the way the ship was laid out. It seemed to be fairly straightforward which translated to high efficiency.

The lift stopped and she raised her head as the doors opened. The pair walked out, their steps synced with one another. Hux still maintained his lead distance and she let him. He wanted to display his power, and she didn't mind. After all, it was true.

"Your quarters are down here on the right," Hux said, pointing to the end of the short corridor. It was much less busy than the rest of the ship. She didn't feel as fenced in as she had before.

They rounded the corner and she felt her heart skip a beat. She jumped back as the towering figure clad in black nearly collided with her. She stepped out of his way, and she felt the soulless, empty pits of black stare down at her. The General stepped closer to Ren, trying to get the dark sider to back off. Of course, Ren just turned his head toward Hux.

"My apologies sir, I-I should've been looking where I was going," Tamara stuttered her way through the sentence, hoping that her half-sincere apology was enough to get her by unscathed.

"I remember you," he said, completely ignoring her previous outpouring. "Tamara Vess."

"Yes, that's correct," she said. She tried to step back a bit further, even though he was a good five feet from her.

Ren turned his head to look at Hux. "I was not informed that anyone new was to be arriving today," he said.

"That's because it is not your concern, Ren," he said. "Miss Vess will not be working directly under you."

Ren didn't bother to respond, but the two men stared back at each other for a few agonizingly long seconds before Ren stalked away. Tamara let out a breath that she didn't know she was holding in. Hux just kept walking, and she quickly took off after him.

"There are two doors to each room," he explained. "You must buzz in those at the first door. The only ones that can override them are the commanders of this ship and the droids that are authorized."

Although it was a weak attempt at comfort, it didn't make her feel any better. Kylo Ren was a commander. If he wanted, he could get into those doors.

She shook her head. What would Kylo Ren want with her? She wasn't of any value, especially not to him. He was a Force user and a destructive one at that.

They stopped by one of the many doors and Hux opened both of them.

"All of your belongings are inside," he said. "You'll be starting your first shift tomorrow at oh-six-hundred sharp."

She gave him a small smile. "Thank you, General," she said, and walked inside.

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The suites on the Finalizer were different from what Tamara was used to. The room was wide open and resembled a small apartment. Her home on Coruscant had been rather large, and she had not been expecting anything like it, but her entire room had been about the size of her new living space. She wasn't about to complain. She was in the bedroom area of the apartment, which was in the back left corner. It was a fairly simple bedroom with a small bed, a nightstand, and a closet. Above the bed, a massive window overlooked the stars of the galaxy, and every once in a while, she would glance down to see Coruscant getting further and further away. Her main task was unpacking her things, which she kept to a minimum. The First Order had supplied most of what she needed. She had pulled the uniform out from the small closet and laid it on the perfectly-pressed sheets of her bed. Her favourite music genre, sparkle-bop, echoed throughout the room. She hummed along to the simple, three-chord melodies as she sorted through her clothes, figuring out what she needed for the next day.

The apartment was laid out simply. From the main entryway, directly on the left was the kitchen area, which was essentially ran along one wall. She didn't see herself using it much anyway. In the middle of the room was a small living space with a couch and two armchairs. On the wall opposite was a massive window, much like the one that her bedroom had. There, a desk stood for when she felt as though she needed to do work outside of her shifts. The refresher and the bedroom were also on the left. Glass walls and a door separated the bedroom from the rest of the apartment. It was fairly standard, and she wondered what the others looked like.

She tossed aside a dress that she had brought in frustration. "Way to bring more than you need, Tammy," she said under her breath. She didn't think that she would need casual or formal wear outside of her uniform, but she had no idea what else to bring. Maybe one day she would get that opportunity to break them out again, but she had a feeling that day was far away.

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 **I'd just like to acknowledge the recent influx in followers and faves and thank you guys! It's very encouraging when I see those emails pop up. And thank you to the lovely reviewers as well. I don't always respond to reviews but I read every one and they make me very happy. I wanted to make this chapter longer after a short one two weeks ago and I hope it was good enough. We'll see much more of Ren in the coming chapters!**

 **Updates are probably only going to be once every two weeks from now on, as my classes are starting to pick up and get pretty busy.**


	5. Chapter 5

Tamara was awake in the early hours, long before her shift started. At 0500, she had decided to start preparing for her first day of her career. She was dressed in the teal uniform worn by the senior officers, and she stood in front of the large mirror in the refresher, attempting to tame her curly hair where she could bind it into a bun.

The nerves ate away at her, and her hand visibly shook. There was a part of her that was excited for the new challenges ahead, but the nerves mostly stemmed from the fact that she would be sharing the same space as someone who terrified her. Their little run-in yesterday had left her doubting over whether or not to keep going and pursue the opportunity she was given. However, she knew that she would be foolish to let her emotions take over her and try to push her out of a position she had worked for so long to claim. Besides, the General knew of her fear. He wasn't obligated to ensure her safety, not by any means, but Ren heard the General's voice. She doubted that the Force wielder would listen to her even if she wanted to talk with him.

"Good enough," she said to herself, dropping her hands back to her sides. The bun that she had managed to tie up was not perfect, but with her curly hair trying to escape the many ties she had in, it wasn't going to get much better. She could cover it with the First Order cap that sat on the counter next to her. She stared at herself in the mirror for a few seconds. Sleep had not come to her easily, and the dark bags under her eyes had been covered up as best as she could. The faint impressions of them were still noticeable, but she didn't have to work around others; she had her own space. With a swift motion, she grabbed the cap off of the counter and fitted it perfectly to her head, tucking away stray stands of hair as they popped up. Finally satisfied, Tamara stepped out of the refresher and out into her suite.

She had called for a droid to bring her a small breakfast, and she saw it sitting on the black countertop of the kitchen area. She didn't feel much like eating, but she didn't know how long she was going to go between meals. It wasn't much – tasteless, bland porridge, but she didn't need much else. With a sigh, she wrapped her fingers around the bowl and brought it over to the living area, setting it down on the coffee table and relaxing into the couch. Relaxing, at least in this circumstance, was subjective.

She ate quickly, half paying attention to the HoloNet stories that danced back and forth. In reality, her mind was elsewhere. She could only hope that Ren kept his distance. There was no reason for him not to, and she hoped that she was just overthinking things. Her mind refused to shut off, and overthinking had become an accepted fact of life after a while. It had led to her getting far too ahead of herself. She anticipated far in advance, and while some considered it to be a skill, she did not enjoy living within her own mind when it would go off on tangents.

The HoloNet switched off unexpectedly and was replaced with the time. Five minutes until shift change. She set her spoon down in the empty bowl and picked the datapad up. The bridge was less than five minutes away, but she would probably need a little while to find her bearings. She grabbed her dark greatcoat and slung it over her shoulders, not bothering to slide her arms through. The Finalizer was kept at a cool temperature, but not cool enough to warrant a thick, outside layer. With one more deep breath, she exited her quarters.

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Confidence was key, and though Tamara was anything but, she knew how to fake it. She walked through the halls of the Finalizer with her chin out and her eyes up. Her coat moved stiffly behind her, but she was not concerned about her appearance. The previous day, she had stuck out from the rest and it had made her uncomfortable. Now, she felt empowered. The teal uniform was not seen often, but she proudly displayed it. Stormtroopers moved out of her way, and other enlisted personnel did as well. She never gave them another glance, while she knew that they were watching her. She had expected it. She was a new face, and one that held a considerable position.

She reached the lift and called for it, standing straight. The shifts were changing, and being alone in the lift was a mirage. There were stormtroopers and officers everywhere, going in all different directions. She paid them little attention. There was no reason to linger on their presence for longer than it took to register that they were there in the first place. She wondered if the commanding triumvirate were awake and assuming their usual posts. Her mind wandered to Ren again. Where was he posted? She hoped it wasn't on the bridge. She did want to deal with more stress and nerves than those already flaring up inside her.

The doors to the lift opened and twenty officers and troopers poured out. She waited, then stepped inside with ten others. They all stayed huddled away from her, and she couldn't help but feel her confidence level rise. Tamara was not trying to ensure that her position was enforced, but she needed to make sure that she could command respect. The earlier she instilled it in others, the faster she would get ahead. She didn't intend to take on a passive role with her job no matter what it was. She felt the lift lurch under her feet as it brought the others to the bridge. Most of the officers were wearing blank, and the troopers were wearing the iconic white and black plastoid armour, gleaming and never out of place. While stormtroopers were often branded as an indispensable resource, she had to admire their dedication to appearance, though Phasma probably hand a hand in all of it. The captain of the stormtroopers had earned her rank through attention to detail, and it would make sense to project that same attentiveness onto her troops.

The lift halted and the doors opened. Tamara didn't wait a beat for anyone else to get out ahead of her, and to her pleasure, she was not met with resistance. She confidently walked through the open blast doors and onto the bridge, where officers were bustling around, mouse droids whirred at her feet, and General Hux stood staring out one of the far viewscreens. The only thing that she could see from her limited view was the endless black and white pricks of stars. Coruscant was long behind them. She quickly scanned the rest of the bridge as she walked toward her office. There was no sign of Kylo Ren, and she relaxed a bit.

Tamara's office was simple. She hadn't expected it to be anything extravagant, and it was a nice change of pace. A black leather chair sat behind a black desk, the top made of glass. The entire front of her office was glass as well, and the reflections of the lights on the bridge glinted off of the polished surfaces. She swung the surprisingly-heavy door closed, letting it settle in its place before she set her data pad down on the desk carefully and shrugged off her greatcoat. The console on her desk was already on at awaiting instruction. With a heavy sigh, she plunked down into the chair and began to look through the various sets of information that were outlined for her. Her face fell when she saw the subject matter – riot control. While it had been how she had put her name in as a First Order candidate in the first place, dealing with it was a huge undertaking. With another sigh, she leaned back in her chair and began to scroll through it.

While she remained focused mostly on her work, she couldn't help but look up every two minutes to scan for Ren. She watched Hux pace back and forth, his mouth moving though she could not hear his orders. Officers and enlisted personnel constantly passed by her office, occasionally glancing in but never lingering. Even if she did catch them, they quickly moved along. It was empowering, knowing how much control she had even though she existed outside of the military.

Ren made his first appearance halfway through Tamara's shift. She was in the middle of analyzing a paragraph of information on riots on Corellia when she saw the blank figure moving swiftly along the bridge, his hands clenched into fists and the expression of his mask void, as always. He was on the opposite side of the bridge from her, but she still watched him. She observed as the officers that were near him flinched away, intending to give him as much space as possible. She wondered how many times the dark sider had threatened them. Of course, fear of him was something that most had, with the exception of Hux, and Tamara did not think it cowardly to be part of that group. He was a scary figure. There was a reason that the First Order had turned into a powerful force.

Ren slowed his walk, and she tilted her head to the side, trying to figure out his movements. One thing she had figured out from him in the brief moments that she had been graced with his presence was that he was erratic. He moved quickly and without much thought. It seemed as though every movement her made was instinctive instead of calculated. He stopped, still staring straight ahead, then whipped his head around to stare directly at her. It made her jump as she felt as though he was glaring at her. He was leaning slightly forward, and his hood had been pulled up, accenting the mask and making him appear much bigger. She quickly glanced back down to her console, not wanting to start anything with him, though she still could see his rough movements out of the corner of her eye. He began to walk forward again, and then he stopped again. She heard the vibration of the modulated voice projecting out from his helmet, even though the sealed glass door. She lifted her head cautiously, and saw him standing off with Hux. The General's hands were behind his back, though his head was awkwardly tilted back. She ignored the rest of the exchange. If the General displayed fearful qualities around Ren, he truly was the most feared man in the galaxy.

Tamara kept her eyes settled on the man in black. He had his back turned to her now as he spoke with the General. He seemed to over Hux, even though difference in their heights was a matter of inches. There was something captivating about him, as much s she hated to admit it. It was like she was watching a horrific speeder crash – unable to look away. Maybe it was the confidence with which he carried himself. Maybe it was pride knowing that he was feared by most in the galaxy. Whatever it was, she preferred to watch from a distance.

The two men didn't talk for long, and Ren turned away, stalking in his usual manner. Tamara watched carefully, and he tilted his mask slightly toward her. He didn't stop and stare like he had before, but she could feel his eyes on her. To say it was strong and a massive understatement. Within a few strides, he was out of the bridge and heading back into the various other areas of the Finalizer. As to his final destination, she didn't know. She glanced back down at her console, letting her head rest in her hand as she continued to look over the information presented to her. Riot control was proving to be a rather tedious subject.

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The rest of the day passed uneventfully, and Tamara was thankful to be back in her own suite. Her dinner sat in front of her, and she mindlessly picked at it while she focused on the HoloNet. It was all the same – the New Republic boasting about how great they were, and that the First Order was not a legitimate threat. While she did agree with them that the First Order has not fully realized its power yet, to an extent, listening to the news outlet was mind numbing. However, she used it as a way to further her knowledge. Her mind was always going – it was what had made her a good student. She always related the concepts being portrayed to her back into something she could use in her career. All that she was getting now, and had been getting for the past few months, was the same message. That the First Order was not something to freak out over. That the New Republic was convicted that it was a rogue group, and would collapse under its own weight. Unless Tamara was missing something, she doubted that the First Order was capable of a military coup just yet, though there were many things she didn't know.

The newscast flipped to holos of the riots on different planets. Tamara pushed her plate away and reclined back on her couch, her eyes narrowed as she tried to sort through the rapidly-moving recordings of the citizens of Naboo throwing themselves against the white, plastoid shields held by riot control stormtroopers. They had their batons raised, though none of them showed signs of ever using them. The batons were nonlethal, but that didn't mean that using them would look particularly good, especially when she was the one working to frame the New Republic as the enemy. Hopefully, those stormtroopers would return and boost the First Order's numbers.

Tamara glanced up as a click followed by a hum signalled that the air conditioning turned on. She didn't mind it much; she was wearing her relaxed clothing anyway – a black shirt with sleeves that ended at her mid-forearm and black leggings. She had released her hair from its bun and it was settling in strange ways across the backrest of the couch and across her shoulders. She had never been able to have time to herself when she lived on Coruscant as she had to be mindful of the servants or to ensure that she kept up an image around her father. Now, she felt as though she could fully relax. No amount of job stress could compare to the stress that the other members of the Coruscanti elite had inflicted on her over the years.

She bolted upright at the sound of a knock on her door. It wouldn't have been a major problem, but there were two sets of blast doors to her suite and the knock has been on the one that granted entry to her living space. Tamara vaguely recalled that there were a handful of people that were able to override the first set of doors, but she couldn't be sure. She looked at her datapad, seeing not notification of a visitor. Her heart began to race as she taught of the implications this had. She left the HoloNet playing as she slowly stood from the couch and walked carefully over to the kitchen counter, her eyes trained on the door. She glanced over to the counter and grabbed the first handle that she could find. While a knife would not aid her in the long run, she was going to defend herself. All she was hoping for was that the person at her door left and let her go back to enjoying her evening, but if someone had gone through the trouble of getting in past the first blast door, her preferred scenario would likely not happen. She tightened her grip on the knife handle, the murmuring voices on the HoloNet doing little to reassure her. She moved carefully and stuck to the wall, her gaze fixated solely on the sealed door. If she could just get to the console that locked it…

With a whoosh, it slid open and she panicked, nearly dropping the knife but also throwing herself forward. All she saw was black before a gloved hand grabbed her wrist.

"That's not a particularly nice way to greet your guests," the familiar modulated voice growled. He twisted her arm away from the two of them and squeezed her wrist, forcing her to drop the knife. It clattered to the ground, settling before Kylo Ren turned his attention back to her.

 _You fool_ , she scolded herself.

"I-Sir, I didn't know it was you," she said, assuming the truth was probably the best option. "I honestly thought that someone might be breaking into my suite, and—"

"I'm sure," he said, not sounding too convinced even though the changes in his tone were slight as they filtered through his mask. He released her arm and she quickly put distance between them, almost reaching the couch again before she stopped. He just watched her, his stare void yet intense. She rubbed her wrist.

"Is there something I can do for you, sir?" she asked, trying to regain control of her thoughts. Behind her, she heard the returning voices of the HoloNet were a welcome sound as she trying to ground herself.

"No," he said, stalking toward her. She stepped back, her journey ending abruptly when the back of her legs knocked into the side of one of the armchairs. "I've come to warn you."

She looked at him, confused. "Warn me?" she asked. "Is there something going on outside?"

"No," he said curtly. "I decided to do you the courtesy of warning you about Hux."

Tamara's confusion was heightened now. She opened her mouth to speak but Ren was faster.

"His intentions for you – they're not what you think," he said.

 _What in the Maker's name is he talking about?_ she thought. Still, she decided to not try and press him. He was probably irate as it was, and questioning him would just be fuel to the flames.

He took her silence as a form of acceptance and turned on his heel, walking back toward the open blast doors. Finally, Tamara found her voice again amidst her own confusion.

"Why are you telling me this, sir?" she asked.

He stopped, then dropped his head. "Good night, Miss Vess," he said before he walked out of the blast doors.

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 **Thanks for reading/reviewing!**


	6. Chapter 6

The nightmares started shortly after Ren's visit. To say that Tamara was unnerved was an understatement. Everything around her put her on edge if it was out of place. As she stood in front of the mirror, the soft sound of music echoing around her, her mind kept travelling back to Ren's warning. She didn't believe him, or at least, she didn't want to believe him. It would be foolish of Hux to want something from her with the power that she had being her in her father. If he had the mind to, Everett could cripple the First Order financially, or at the very least, set them back years. Surely, the General was wise enough to realize that. Tamara didn't want to be the girl who couldn't fight her own battles and who relied on the power of her parents in order to achieve what she wanted, but if he were to try anything, she knew that she had them as a backup.

There was also the possibility that Ren was trying to get in her head. It was something that he had been highly successful at so far. What confused her was why he was so intent on intimidating her. Perhaps it was just part of his persona that he no doubt had adopted. Many new officers must go through the same thing. That was what she was going to tell herself until he backed off, if he ever did.

Tamara's thoughts were interrupted by her comm buzzing one top of her datapad. She picked the small device up and turned the volume down on her music.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Bridge. ASAP," were the only words that were spoken from the other end of the line. She could recognize the voice.

"I'll be there shortly, General," she responded, and the line went silent.

She turned her head to the side, examining the bun she had attempted to create once again. It was an ongoing battle, and she lost it every morning. Her hair refused to cooperate on the best days, but she wasn't too concerned with it. She was never incredibly meticulous with her appearance, not like the General was or like her father was. She glanced down at her datapad. She still had twenty minutes until her shift began. Outside, her breakfast was starting to grow cold, and she knew that she was going to have to abandon it. Letting out a disappointed sigh, she picked up her comm and her datapad, figuring that leaving the General waiting for too much longer would result in terrible consequences.

* * *

The shift change was still fifteen minutes away, and the halls were not bustling at the level of activity that they would be. The bridge was busy, but Tamara had expected that. She spied Hux on the opposite side of the room, looking at a console with another officer at his side. She walked with purpose over to him, and as she neared he dismissed the other officer with a wave of his hand.

"Good morning, General," she greeted, though her voice carried a light edge to it. She'd had to skip out on breakfast because of his call, and it had but her in a less than pleasant mood.

"Good morning, Miss Vess," Hux said in a much lighter tone than hers. "I must as you about last night."

Tamara blinked and cursed in her mind. "It was a fairly quiet night," she responded, not wanting to give away any information. Ren had a habit of appearing at the worst times, and she didn't want to be caught in his wrath.

"That's not what I was referring to," Hux said, motioning for her to walk with him. She kept in stride with him as they walked down the centre of the bridge.

"With all due respect, General, if you know what you're talking about, why don't you just say it?" she challenged.

"Because I am asking out of the goodness of my heart, not because I am required to, Miss Vess," the General said in a pointed tone. "If I am to help you, I need to know your side of what happened and not just what the security footage tells me. To clarify, pulling a knife on one of the ship's commanders does not place you in a particularly good light."

The General glanced up and visibly stiffened. Tamara followed his gaze and her own came to rest on the figure in silver and black stalking toward them. Hux halted as Ren approached. She stepped back.

"Supreme Leader Snoke demands an audience," Ren said, staring the General down, completely ignoring Tamara. She wasn't complaining.

Hux glanced back down to her. "We'll finish this conversation later," he said, and she gave him a small nod. He brushed past Ren, not waiting for the other man to catch up. But the Force user seemed to linger for just a few more seconds, and Tamara felt as though she was frozen. She didn't want to make any sudden movements should it set him off.

"Ren," Hux's voice commanded. The dark enforced turned slowly and deliberately before he walked away from her.

* * *

Tamara found herself glancing up every few seconds, impatient for Hux to return. However, she was also fearful of Kylo Ren making a second appearance. Her work was proving to be tedious and unable to hold her interest for a prolonged amount of time. She was gathering information on the Core Worlds, trying to identity which ones to target, but her focus was faltering. Her console remained stagnant and she often found her thoughts drifting off as she read the same sentence over and over again.

The majority of her thoughts came to an end on the warning Kylo Ren had given her. She was still trying to figure out what exactly he had meant from it, and if Hux had overheard their conversation. Questioning the General about it was out of line and she wasn't about to sacrifice herself in order to get information that may or may not be true. Ren was manipulative and dangerous. His track record spoke for itself. Why did she feel so inclined to believe him? Hux had not shown any sort of malicious intent thus far, and she doubted that there was any. Maybe Ren had firmly rooted himself in her head.

The two highly-regarded officials walked out onto the bridge again, and Tamara straightened up as Hux walked over to her office. She tried to make herself look busy, though she was only anticipating when he would yank the door open. She hoped that Ren wasn't following him.

"Let's conclude our conversation from this morning, shall we?"

Tamara looked up as the General allowed himself into her office. It had been hours since she had seen him last. Whatever the Supreme Leader had wanted must've been substantial in order to keep him away for over half of the General's shift.

"Yes," she said. Turning so that she was facing him. "Ren visited me last night."

"That much I know," Hux responded, placing himself in front of her desk. "What I don't know is what was said between the two of you. I only receive a visual feed, but no audio."

 _Why you have a security camera in my suite is beyond me_ , she thought, but nonetheless continued. "I suppose you could say it was his way of welcoming me to the First Order," she said.

Hux narrowed his eyes at her. He seemed to know that she was withholding information from him, but he did not press her.

"It is your own loss if you choose not to tell me, Miss Vess," he warned. "But I may tell you this – I cannot do anything on the record about his visits because of his rank. Unfortunately, we're considered equals when it comes to the First Order and its ranks. While this is mostly annoying to me, it also means that I do not have to go out into the field. He is going out on missions in order to track some piece of a map in order to find his – the last Jedi. He'll be gone for most of the month, allowing you some piece."

Tamara reclined in her chair. "That's great news, General," she said. "Hopefully it spares you from having to replace consoles and entire rooms from his tantrums."

The General let a small smile crack his hardened exterior. "That would be very much appreciated," he said. "I'll leave you to your work."

Swiftly, he exited her office and she sat still for a moment, contemplating what it would be like to have no Ren around for an entire month. She had moved most of her life without ever having to grace his presence, but now it felt as though he had been around forever. _He is getting to me_ , she thought. She had elected to not tell Hux that Ren had warned her, and it repulsed her. How was it possible that she trusted Ren over the General? Maybe it was because of the collateral damage that would occur should Ren ever find out she had passed along the information he had given to her during their chat. However, there was a small part of her that felt as though Ren was telling the truth, and that Hux's intentions were less than true. Whatever the case was, she could see the dark enforcer standing at a console just off to the side of the viewscreens opposite of her workspace. He couldn't get off the ship fast enough for her liking. No matter how large the Finalizer was, there was never enough distance between the two of them. Her worst fear had been realized the previous night, and now that she knew he could willingly barge into her suite whenever he had the mind to had her incredibly paranoid. The only thing that she had to herself on the ship was her quarters, and now she knew that it was not truly her own. There was a camera in it, somewhere, spying on her. She assumed it was for security, but she couldn't be sure. She wondered if every room had one in it.

Deciding that her efforts would be better focused elsewhere, she turned back to her own console where a translucent holograph of Coruscant rotated, information spread out all across the active area. While it was tedious work, it was better than worrying about what the man across the bridge had intended for her, if he had anything at all.

* * *

The shifts had changed at eighteen-hundred, tamara had elected to stay back for another hour. Ren had been on the bridge for much longer than she had anticipated, even though the beginning hours of the third shift of the day. When he had finally vacated the bridge, presumably to retire to his own quarters, she had bolted. She was exhausted from working for so long that day, and all she wanted to do was lay on her couch and relax with a glass of wine.

However, her thoughts were interrupted as she saw the doors to her suite open. She paused and cursed in her mind. Was Ren back? Had he waited for her? She swallowed as the walked through them. Thankfully, there were no others in the corridor.

The scene in front of her was not one she could've ever expected. A droid was laying out food on the kitchen counter, not interested that she had just walked through. Sitting on her couch was none other than the Captain herself.

"Captain!" Tamara exclaimed.

"Apologies, Miss Vess, I wanted to stop by your work station today but I was caught up in training the newest wave of stormtrooper corps," the older woman said, standing up. She wasn't wearing any of her armour, and while she still looked intimidating, she seemed much more approachable. She was dressed fairly causal, which helped her appearance. She noticed Tamara's unease. "I'm sorry for startling you."

"No, that's not the issue, Captain," Tamara began, then elected to not speak of her encounter with Ren the night before. "It this some sort of special occasion?"

"If welcoming the newest senior officer is a special occasion to you, then sure," Phasma said, walking over to the kitchen area. The corked bottle of dark liquid caught her eye. "Corellian wine. Good taste."

Tamara smiled. "Thank you, Captain" she said. "If you'd excuse me for a moment…"

"Of course," Phasma said. "The food shall be ready when you come back out."

As Tamara walked through the suite to get to her bedroom, her thoughts were hung up on why the captain had decided to come to her room as opposed to elsewhere. It was strange, but then again, Phasma did not know of the events previous. Tamara let as though she had a right to be on edge, but from what she had seen from the stormtrooper captain, she had been impressed. Phasma carried herself with a cold exterior, but she seemed as though she was human from the way she acted when the armour was off and the shifts were over.

Tamra quickly changed into more comfortable clothes and walked back out into the suite. The droid she had seen before had vacated and the door to her quarters was closed. Phasma sat on the couch, a plate of food in front of her and a bottle of wine in her hand.

"I've been looking forward to a glass all day," Tamara said, siting in one of the armchairs. "Captain." She was quick to catch her slip-up, not wanting to come across as too casual or not caring about rank.

"You and me both," Phasma remarked, pouring the red liquid into the teardrop-shaped glasses. "You may drop the professional attitude if you wish. It's my downtime – I like to treat it as such." She held out one of the glasses, the wine coating the transparent container as it moved in rhythm with her movements.

"Thank you," Tamara said, taking the glass and swirling it around. She glanced over her shoulder at the door, taking extra caution to make sure it was closed – not that it would stop him anyway.

"I know I've startled you," Phasma said. "That's why I left the door open. But trust me, it is locked now."

Tamara turned, not aware that the captain was watching her. "Oh, sorry," she said. "I'm just a bit paranoid is all. General Hux told me today that there are cameras in this suite."

"Ah yes," Phasma responded, leaning back against the couch, her fingers cupping the glass. "Those are in every suite for security purposes. As you know, one of our commanders is very – _touchy_. He's destructive and temperamental, to put it lightly. The cameras will catch him if he tries to destroy anything."

Tamara brought the glass to her face, the scent of fermented grapes overpowering everything else. Carefully, she took a sip. "So I've heard," she said. "What I'm more interested in is why you're looking forward to your downtime today."

Phasma set her glass down on the coffee table. "Training new troops is exhausting work," she responded. "The corps I'm training now are very promising, maybe even the best stormtroopers that the First Order has ever seen."

"That's exciting news," Tamara said.

Phasma reached down for her glass again. "I appreciate the work you're doing, Tamara," she said. "My troops are spread so thin as it is, and I do think that what you're doing will benefit the Order in the long run."

"I'm just doing my job," Tamara responded, then raised her wine glass. "To the First Order."

Phasma gave a small smile. "To the First Order."

* * *

 **Hopefully that chapter was worth the wait! The next one will be written from Ren's POV.**


	7. Chapter 7

**To make up for the long wait for the last chapter, here's another one!**

* * *

Kylo Ren stood at one of the massive viewscreens on the bridge, his gloved hands resting on the ledge in front of him. His mask stared blankly out into the endless void of space, white stars surrounding the Finalizer in a chaotic fashion. The officers on duty were watching him, and he could feel their eyes on him even though they were attempting to be subtle. It didn't bother him much anymore. He knew that they feared him and he revelled in it. The empowerment that he gained from being branded as one of the most feared men in the galaxy was indescribable.

The new senior officer had left an hour ago. Her office was bare and dark, as were most of them on the far wall. He had warned her. Anything that happened now was entirely her own doing. It wasn't that he had any sort of feeling toward her – he was fairly neutral – but rather it was because he wanted Hux defamed. She regarded the General as someone who saved her from her pedestrian life on Coruscant. However, Ren was not going to say exactly what Hux had in store for her, as even he did not know. It had been confirmed at the meeting with the Supreme Leader that day.

Ren had returned to the bridge after a brief break to mediate. Having to spend hours on end in a meeting with the Supreme Leader had worn on him, and he needed to ground himself unless he wanted to risk destroying something. He didn't really care about the destruction of First Order property as he did about the reprimanding he would inevitably get from Hux should he destroy another console set. The only thing that he found appealing was that he would be leaving on a mission shortly. Being stuck on the Finalizer was wearing on him, and he wanted nothing more than to feel the thrill and confidence that came with a battle. The First Order's military was growing to be a superior force in the galaxy, and he was able to command them.

"Miss Vess does not need you visiting her in the night, Ren."

As if on cue, the General was standing behind the dark enforcer, his hands behind his back and his chin tilted forward. Ren turned slowly.

"Pulling a knife on her superiors is not needed either," he retorted.

"Nonetheless," Hux said, dismissing Ren's comment with a wave of his hand. "She is valuable to the First Order. I do not want her running back to Coruscant because of you."

"I'll behave myself then, _General_ ," Ren sneered. "I was simply passing along a message to her, and it's none of your concern."

"You tormenting a senior officer is undoubtably my concern," Hux snapped. Ren glanced down at a few officers who had paused their work to listen to the skirmish between their commanders. When they were caught, they instantly went back to work, not wanting to get involved in a possible punishment.

"Is there something you plan to do about it?" Ren asked. He was simply toying with the General. The two of them were equals when it came to power in the First Order, and Hux could do nothing even if he wanted to.

"You make the mistake of letting your personal desires interfere with your mind," Hux growled.

"How else do you think I'm as powerful as I am?" Ren snapped back.

Hux had nothing more to say. Ren almost always won their arguments by stalking away. To say that the two men did not get along was putting it delicately. Ren despised the General, and he was sure that the feeling was mutual. The two had never known a life together when they weren't at each others throats at every minute of every day. As usual, Hux didn't follow, but elected to bore holes in the the force user's back. Ren didn't seem to mind. Not much fazed him. Even Tamara charing at him with a knife didn't do much to scare him. He had been able to subdue her easily, and he doubted that she would've followed through anyway.

After being away for so long, all he wanted to do was go back to his quarters and rest for the day ahead, but he had to wait. Thankfully, the person he was waiting for lived in the same area he did. He walked out of the bridge, heading directly for the lift that would take him to the area reserved for the senior staff quarters.

* * *

The halls of the senior staff area were quiet. Many of them had retired to their quarters hours before with the intention of not coming back out. It made Ren's walk almost peaceful, had he not been annoyed. Hux had a tendency to put the dark sider in a bad mood, no matter what the circumstance was, not to mention that he was feeling the effects of exhaustion after the work he'd put in that day. His helmet felt heavy on his head, and he wanted nothing more than to toss it off once he returned to his quarters. However, there were other things that required his attention first.

He watched as a slightly tipsy Phasma walked out of a room he had been in the night before. Her armour was nowhere to be seen, and she didn't seem to notice him. He decided to leave her for the moment; the time would come when he would address her. He quickened his pace, glancing at the open doorway, taunting him. He clenched his fists. The new officer was proving to be rather careless. While it was not his job to ensure that she was safe, she needed a reminder. It was getting resole after only two nights. He slowed his pace and paused at the yawning doorway, staring into the brightly lit suite. He glanced down the hall again, seeing that Phasma had disappeared from view. Slowly, he walked through the two sets of doors.

Tamara had her back to him as she moved an empty bottle of wine to the kitchen counter where the housekeeping droids would collect it in the morning. She hummed along as though nothing was wrong. She was so naïve and ignorant. Maybe his night could be salvaged.

He stepped further into the suite, the overhead lights casting a his shadow in front of him. She turned her head slighting and let out a frightened yelp as her eyes rested on the back figure. She instantly backed away, putting as much distance between them as she could. He watched with amusement. It was always so gratifying when he was able to make someone submit. It empowered him, and he stood a little bit straighter.

"Sir," she stuttered after a moment's pause. Her hands were shaking and she gripped the back of one of the armchairs, hunched over. "Is-is something wrong?"

He watched her for a moment. She was truly terrified. Even when she had met him for the first time, she had been timid and fearful. The feelings she projected through the Force were difficult to ignore. While she was not Force-sensitive herself, she had no idea how strong the dark side emotions were. If she were Force-sensitive, she could prove herself to be a powerful ally for the First Order. Alas, she was not. Her time would come eventually.

"Captain Phasma seems to have developed an immense respect for you over a short period of time," he commented, ignoring her previous statement. The truth was, nothing was wrong. The fear she was projecting was starting to annoy him more, breaking his focus. "I am not going to hurt you."

She clearly didn't believe him, and she didn't move. Fear and anxiety rolled off her in waves, bombarding his thoughts. It was becoming increasingly difficult to concentrate.

"Is there a reason you are here, sir?" she asked, her voice weak.

"In fact, there is," he said. "I warned you last night about Hux. Might I offer you some more advice?"

She blinked in surprise, and he felt her relax, if only slightly. She straightened up. "Of course, sir," she responded.

"Don't get attached," he said.

She turned her head to the side in confusion. "How do I know you're not trying to turn me against the General, sir?" she asked.

Ren clenched his fists again. No one would dare speak to him in that sort of tone, but he restrained himself. If she feared him, it would work against him and she would run into Hux's arms, pleading for him to do something. It was not a reality Ren found himself enjoying.

"You're a smart woman, Miss Vess, I know you have it in you to figure out what the General wants," he responded, keeping his voice as smooth as possible.

She glanced down at the floor, lost in thought. From what he had seen of her, she was very calculating, much like Hux. She never seemed to trust her instinct. If she did, she would never have taken the position in the first place. Only four people in the First Order knew what was in store for the young officer, but he was not about to let it spill yet. It would come, in time. If she figured it out fast enough, she would run.

Ren decided to take his leave. "Good night, Miss Vess," he said.

She snapped her head up again. "Good night, sir," she said.

With that, he turned and walked out of the doors, feeling the whoosh of air as they quickly shut behind him. Tamara Vess was proving to be an interesting case to him. Hux had brought in pets before, but none of them were like her. Of course, he knew that she had been well-groomed by her father for a precious position such as the one she currently held, and that there were ties between her family and the Hux's. Ren needed to be careful and subtle with the way he brought her information. If Hux caught wind that he was attempting to warn her, it would not end well. His own mission would be compromised and he doubted that he would receive another chance from the Supreme Leader. It was a game with Hux, one that the two men played often, each maneuvering to get each other ousted, competing for favour like a vulptex would for food scraps. Each one looked for faults, and more often then not, it ended with no action being taken. One knew that he was given leeway – he did exist outside of the military chain of command, after all. Hux, on the other hand, knew that his moves would be criticized, and deflected blame whenever he could. It was a matter of anticipating his next move, which ran was rather good at. He just needed Tamara to be on the same level for his plan to work. If Hux was to be ousted, he needed her help, even indirectly. Persuasion went a long way, and she needed to accept its influence.

* * *

Ren reached the door to his quarters in no time at all. Just as he had predicted, a certain captain stood just off to the side, her hands behind her back as she looked down at him. While Ren was no slouch as six foot two, Phasma towered over most. Six foot five was almost unheard of for a woman, but she used her size to her advantage. Even without her armour, she was a commanding figure.

"What did you learn?" he asked, not bothering with introductions. It was likely that she was just as tired as he was, and the bottle of wine she had polished off with Tamara only added to Phasma's inattentiveness.

"She's one of the most timid creatures I've ever met," she said. "Her father must've drilled it into her to remain submissive, but by the stars, it's frustrating. Only when we started drinking did she relax. I had to expend quite a bit of information about myself in order to get her to talk."

"Your request will not go unheeded, Phasma, I promise you that," he said. "Now, what did she say?"

"She's knowledgable about many aspects of the galaxy," Phasma began. "She has an elitist attitude, which I supposed you can expect after spending twenty-six years as part of the Coruscanti elite, but she's loyal. The First Order cause is one that she supports and I can guarantee you that she will not go running from this fight. You will need to up your levels of persuasion if you want her to side with you."

Ren nodded, making a mental note. "And what of her attachment?" he asked.

"It doesn't take much," Phasma stated. "To me, it looks as though she was starved for affection from her family at a young age. Possible something to exploit?"

"Very much so," Ren replied.

"Those are the major points," Phasma said. "The rest of it was mindless chatter, or me talking about myself and what I do for the Order."

"Thank you, Phasma," he said. "I promise you that your request will be brought before the Supreme Leader in due time."

"Good night, sir," she said, giving him a small smile.

"Good night," he replied.

The Captain turned and walked down the hall, her destination undoubtedly being her own quarters. It had been a long day, and Ren just wanted to put his feet up and relax for a few hours. He had no doubt that it would be another early day again, but with his new information, he would be able to tailor his approach. He knew that Tamara would go running to Hux the next morning, but Ren was not overly concerned with that. When she found out Hux's true plans, she would run from him, and she would never look back.

* * *

 **Thank you all for the lovely reviews and for supporting this story! It's so motivating when you see that people are reading your ramblings and are enjoying them. Next chapter shouldn't be far away!**


	8. Chapter 8

Trying to find focus was becoming increasingly difficult for Tamara. Her mind was constantly wandering, and she often found herself staring blankly at her console. Ren's visits over the past two nights still had her on edge, though he was more tolerable the previous night compared to other times. The words he spoke were vague, and she didn't know what to make of them. She didn't know if he was lying, as she had figured that he had a reason to. The sibling rivalry-like dynamic that existed between him and Hux was unmistakable. The two of them seemed to be competing, and she wanted to stay as far away from it as possible.

However, the previous night had proven to be one of the more enjoyable times she'd had thus far as a member of the First Order. Phasma was well-respected and Tamara found it hard to reciprocate the feeling. Her father had talked highly of the Captain, but Tamara didn't find herself caring so much about Phasma's accomplishments. What Tamara found interesting was how the Captain didn't let her gender define her. It was empowering to witness. When Phasma had removed her mask at the meeting, nothing had changed. Granted, Tamara had been busy trying not to squirm under Ren's stare.

The senior officer glanced up as there was a light knock on her door. She didn't say anything as the General let himself in. She leaned back in her chair and folded her hands in front of her. Immediately, she thought back to Ren's warning. He had placed faith in her to decipher Hux's intentions, but she couldn't. She wished that the Force user would simply speak his mind.

"How can I help you, General?" she asked.

"There is a mission that I think you may be of great assistance in," he said, walking in front of her. "A field mission to Coruscant, as it seems."

Tamara tried to hide her excitement. While she had only been on the Finalizer for a matter of days, she still found herself longing for home. "What's the mission?" she asked, intending to stay on topic.

"It leaves in two days," he said. "I shall send you the plans, should you be interested."

"Of course," she said with a nod.

The General pulled his datapad out from behind his back and tapped it. Tamara glanced over at her console, pulling up the information. Hux walked behind her in order to review it alongside her. She leaned on her elbows as she skimmed the plans.

"If I'm reading this correctly, this is an attempt to sway a potential ally over to the First Order's side, correct?" she asked, directing her eyes up at Hux.

"Correct," he said. "You will have backup, so don't worry about being out in the field alone."

"What kind of backup?" she asked.

Hux visibly stiffened. "I am still sorting that little detail out," he responded. "I'm attempting to pry loose a convoy of stormtroopers to accompany you, but Phasma is reluctant to release them, considering how thin our forces are already spread."

"Understandable," she said.

"I'll leave you to it to get some preliminary work done," he said.

"Thank you, General," she said, and he swiftly exited her office. She leaned back in her chair and glanced up at the black ceiling, smiling. While it was unlikely she would return to her residence, being back on Coruscant was comforting. She would be able to get away from Ren for a while, and that was the most delighting part. For once, she would be able to live her life as a First Order officer as she intended. While field work was not her specialty, she was confident in her abilities. She had displayed her negotiating and persuasion skills in the meeting that had she viewed as her entrance interview. She looked closer at the plans, noting things about this possible ally. While there were still two days until she was to depart, there was never any harm in knowing as much as possible beforehand. Tamara always liked having the upper hand. Maybe that was why Ren scared her so much. There was never any way to beat him. Maybe one day, she would figure out his weakness.

* * *

While Tamara enjoyed her work, her favourite part by far was returning to her quarters after a twelve hour shift. She wanted to lounge on the couch, glass of wine in hand, and watch the HoloNet. While visitors had interrupted her routine as of recently, she had been able to figure out a few things during the limited time she had to herself.

She had spent a long time at her desk that day, and it was nearly twenty-two hundred when she was making the journey back to her suite. The halls were mostly empty, though her uniform made few other, lower ranked officers part, stepping out of her way and not being obvious when they tried to figure out who she was. As someone who spent most of her time away from the eyes of most, Tamara expected to be looked at strangely. It didn't bother her. While it was a different experience, the credits that she was being paid were enough to put up with the minor things that would otherwise annoy her.

She unlocked her suite and tossed her datapad on the couch, scanning the room quickly for any sign of immediate inconsistency. With the number of times others had barged their way into her room recently, she was starting to develop a feeling of paranoia whenever she walked into her quarters. She wished that it wasn't the case. All she wanted was to relax. Thankfully, nothing seemed out of place, and she walked to her bedroom, pulling her hair out of its tight bun as she did so. Once the mass of black curls was freed, she shook her head around and ran her fingers through it, roughly. By far, her least favourite part of the First Order uniform was how tight her hair needed to be back. It always felt freeing when she released it after her shift.

She changed into her comfortable clothes, intending to stay inside once again, then flopped down on the couch, staring at the ceiling for a moment. Her mind instantly wandered to the upcoming mission. She was excited – there was no denying that, but she was also nervous. The fact that a stormtrooper convoy was necessary was slightly off-putting. While she still trusted Hux to not put her in any immediate danger, there was a possibility it could go south quickly. She had faith in the stormtroopers, but it was still unnerving to think that she would need protection from someone that she was tasked to sway. Maybe it was just that she was overanalyzing. She needed a glass of wine.

Sitting up and swinging her legs up, she eyed the cabinet where she had stored the bottles. There had only been a few when she had moved in, and as she opened the door, she let out a disappointed, exasperated sigh. Empty. She had no idea where to restock. The droids did not bring the bottles, as she had never seen it as an option when she had ordered food. There was only one other alternative.

"Of course, today of all days," she said. Stepping back from the cabinet. It was time to go exploring. She walked over to her open bedroom again and grabbed her greatcoat, hanging it off her shoulders as the General was notorious for doing. She looked odd in the black leggings and black t-shirt with the huge coat, but she didn't have any other alternatives. There must be someone out in the halls that could help her.

* * *

Tamara's tour of the Finalizer had not been extensive, and now it was coming back to haunt her. She knew that there was a bar somewhere around the officer's area, but she had no idea where. The halls were just as bare as they had been before, but now, when she needed some direction, there was not a soul around. Frustrated, she pulled the coat closer to her, shifting it up her shoulders, and continued to walk. There wasn't even a mouse droid skittering around at her feet. It seemed as though the ship was completely bare of all life. She kept her head down and continued to push forward. However, that proved to be an oversight, as she smacked right into the chest of one Kylo Ren.

"Kriff," she curse, stepping back, not realizing who it was that she ran into. When she raised her gaze up and her eyes settled on the infamous mask, she jumped back. "Sir! Apologies, for cursing and for running into you," she stammered. "I wasn't looking where I was going." She swallowed, hoping that her measly apology was enough to send him on his way.

Ren didn't seem to be phased, though he was most likely annoyed. The only way she could tell his emotions was by the way he held his hands, and they weren't clenched into fists. "What are you doing out at this hour?" he asked. "Out of uniform, nonetheless."

"I-I was looking for a bottle of wine," Tamara said, deciding to come clean. "I ran out in my suite and need to restock."

Ren turned on his heel and walked back the way he came. She watched, him confused. "Don't just stand there," he called back. "You're looking for the bar, are you not?"

She never imagined the dark enforcer to be particularly pleasant, but she decided that he was her best bet to finding something to drink. She followed him, her feeble attempts to keep in stride with him falling short as his long legs carried him forward. Thankfully, there were no others in the corridors. She pulled her coat tighter around her once again. She felt small next to him, and all confidence that she'd once possessed was gone.

Ren paused at a closed door before unlocking it and striding inside. The room was dark, but she could see the many bottles.

"The lounge," he said flatly as she stepped inside. "Did Hux ever show you this?"

Tamara glanced up. "No, sir," she responded, her voice weak.

"Senior officers are allowed to go into the back room," he said, looking over to where another door stood at the back of the room, shut tight. "That's where you'll find wine."

Eager to get away from him, Tamara rushed over to the door. At that moment, she didn't care that she was putting her feelings out in the open. He could most likely sense her fear anyway. The door whooshed open and cool air hit her face. Rows of shelves all filled with perfectly-aligned bottles stretched on to the back of the room. She stepped inside, looking for her favourite bottle of wine. The labels were difficult to read in the dim light, but she didn't need much to go on. She had developed such a loyalty that it didn't matter.

Ren, on the other hand, refused to leave. She had expected him to leave as soon as he had shown her in, but she could see the thin, towering shadow he cast as he stood near the entrance to the lounge. It was unnerving to say the least, and she clutched at the edges of her coat as she searched. Perhaps he would leave if she took her time finding what she wanted. Corellian wine was not located near the front, and with each step, she found herself glancing behind her again. Part of her wanted to ask what he wanted. Another part told her that she wouldn't get an answer. He was mysteries and terrifying in every way.

Finally, she found the bottle that she was looking for and pulled it off the shelf, her fingers wrapped tightly around the neck. She stepped out, and the door slammed closed. She let her gaze rest on Ren. He had moved over and was leaning against the counter of the bar, staring at the rows of alcohol behind it.

"Is something wrong, sir?" she asked.

"No," he responded curtly. "Much like you, I too am in need of a drink."

She wanted to question how he planned to do so with a mask on his head, but decided against it. There was enough that she had done to get on his bad side in her few days on the Finalizer.

"Well, thank you for showing me this place, sir," she said, wrapping her other hand around the bottle. She received no acknowledgement back, and took that as her queue to leave. She began to walk toward the door, already thinking about getting back to her couch, a glass of her favourite Corellian wine in hand.

"Does your father know that you do not hold him in high regards?"

Tamara whipped around, nearly dropping the bottle. Ren still wasn't looking at her, but he was waiting for an answer. She wanted to lash out at him, ask him what business he had questioning her. What did it matter to him? What she believed was private to her. Then there was the question on how he had found out. She had never voiced her opinions out loud. Everett was a man that Tamara owed much of her success to. That didn't mean that she had to like him. Her emotions got the better of her as she spoke.

"My relationship with my father is none of your concern, sir," she spat. A single moment passed between her uttering those words and the instant regret that came afterward.

Ren stood up and Tamara felt herself slam against the wall. The bottle she held smashed against the black wall, freeing the red liquid and sending it cascading down, pooling at her feet. Shards of glass flew out in all directions, though none of them hit her face. However, she couldn't move. Her arm was pinned to the side, her fingers forced to hold the bottle neck. Her other arm was pinned at her side. Ren had his hand out, seething even though his mask was void of all expression. He approached her slowly.

"You need to learn manners when it comes to your superiors," he sneered. He was close, but did not touch her. Instead, he held out his hand, threatening her. She didn't doubt that he could easily kill her if he had the mind to, but he didn't. It was a power move, one that said "fear me." That message was received. All she could do was blink. She couldn't make any sort of sound. It was as if everything had constricted all at once. The wine pooled at her feet, its deep red colour not showing against the dark tile.

Ren released his hold on her and she collapsed down to the ground, managing to catch herself from falling face first into the new floor adornments of glass and wine. By the time she raised her head, he was gone. There was no trace that he had ever been in the room. She dropped the bottle neck that she didn't realize the was still holding, the jagged edges breaking even though its fall was short. If there was any trace of trust that existed between the two of them, that had been destroyed. It wasn't going to come back.


	9. Chapter 9

Sleep did not come to Tamara easily that night. She found herself staring at the wall, the ceiling, the crack of light that was not blocked by the shades on her viewscreen. Every half hour, she turned over and saw the time on her datapad, flashing at her, taunting her. No matter how much she tried to will herself to sleep, that feeling of pure helplessness crept over her again. When she had been rendered motionless, Ren didn't even seem to be phased by it. Surely, something such as that would take immense concentration. Perhaps he was even more powerful than he was advertised. Any pleasant memories of him were nullified by the experience that night, and Tamara turned over in bed again. He was out there, somewhere prowling. While he was on her side of the fight, she couldn't help but feel he was impeding her progress in whatever way he found necessary.

She finally fell asleep just before oh-three-hundred.

Two hours of sleep was not nearly enough to run on. When her alarm went off, she didn't even think she had slept at all. Her eyes were heavy and she sat up slowly, dreading moving from her bed that had turned into the most heavenly place she could think about. The less-than-motivating prospect of work awaited her, but she didn't have much of a choice. Her mission awaited her, and the best she could do was hope that Ren did not make his presence known on the bridge. She couldn't rely on Hux to keep the dark sider away forever.

Her normal routine seemed to move at a quarter of the pace it normally did. She fought to keep her head up as she tied her hair back in a bun as best as she could. Ren was costing her countless hours of sleep, and she wished for him to go out in his missions faster. Maybe then she could achieve some sort of peace.

As Tamara stumbled into her office, her eyes barely open, she plunked down in her chair and placed her hand up to her head. The lights seems to bright, even though the darkness of the bridge was usually welcoming for her. Her console sat idle, awaiting commands. She knew that she should do more work for her mission, but she didn't know if any of it would be usable if she tried. Still, she needed to look busy. The General would be making his rounds shortly and she needed to ensure that she had something to show for her work besides looking horrendously tired. Lifting her head again, she saw that dreaded figure, stalking. The officers that passed him made a point to not look at the silver lines of his helmet, or even cast a glance in his direction. He had his hood up, and for some reason, he looked much more menacing. Hux was nowhere in sight. All she could hope to do was try her best to ignore him. She wished to pull the shades closed around the glass, not allowing him the privilege of being able to see her in her exhausted state, but it would only cause suspicion. She sensed that she was not one particularly good grounds with the Force user, and did not want to do anything to set him off further. The only issue arose with the fact that he was so volatile that she didn't know what would set him off on any given day. Phasma had told stories of how destructive he could be, resulting the deaths of three stormtroopers. She had been irate, but there was nothing that could be done. He was Supreme Leader Snoke's pet, and he always got a pass. The dynamic between the three leaders, outside of Snoke, seemed to be ever-changing. It was confusing to say the least.

Finally, she saw the General make his way out onto the bridge. Ren made no motion. The two of them largely ignored each other, or at least, they tried to. It was blatantly obvious to Tamara that they were just waiting for the other one to slip up. Phasma did not have any opinion on their of them, or if she did, she had kept it to herself when the two of them had dinner just a couple days before. It seemed like years. She didn't have much of a concept of time on the Finalizer anymore since she didn't wake up to a sunrise or go to sleep to a sunset. Either way, the only thing getting her through was the thought of getting off the ship, and hopefully as far away from Ren as possible. She didn't want to be anywhere near him, especially after the previous night. Slowly, she raised her head to see him standing, his back to her, looking at various bits of data. _He's not worth the attention_ , she thought to herself. In just under twenty-four hours, she would be on her way back to her home planet.

* * *

The difference between Tamara's night and men's night was that he was used to a tumultuous sleep. He had grown to accept it as a fact. He had all but forgotten what a good night's rest felt like. He had tried to fill the void, but it remained, gaping, never ceasing. It seemed as though it would always haunt him, and he would but trapped in an endless cycle of fatigue. Today, he decided to stay on the bridge, much to his equal's disappointment. He would feel Hux's gaze gouging into his back, but it didn't phase him.

Though his exterior did not portray it, he was annoyed, but not at Hux. He was annoyed at the woman that had so carelessly and disrespectfully dismissed him the previous night. Perhaps it was her superiority complex, thinking that she was Hux's pet and that she could do no wrong, and that would save her from having to obey the Force user. He could speculate all he wanted. While he possessed the methods necessary to get her to divulge the information he wanted, he was not about to traumatize her further – not until it was fully warranted. It wasn't because he cared about her mental wellbeing – he didn't – but rather, the repercussions should Hux find out about it. The General was always trying to maneuver to attempt to get Ren ousted, and it wouldn't bother the dark sider too much if Hux was not as obvious as he was about it. It was equally infuriating that Hux did not show any fear. In Ren's view, it was a show of weakness. However, Tamara more than made up for the General's lack of emotion.

His musings were interrupted by a weak, unsteady male voice. "Sir, mission briefings have come in," the officer said, looking rather small. Ren glanced down at him. Knowing that his inferiors feared him was something that he expected, but it gave him a bit more confidence in himself.

"Are they required to be looked over now?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," the officer responded, keeping a safe distance between the two of them. "Captain Phasma is awaiting you in the upper boardroom."

Ren turned his head once more toward the office across from him. Tamara looked as though she was barely able to keep her head up, but she was working. While she didn't know it, the two of them would be spending more time together shortly.

* * *

It was halfway through her shift when the General appeared in her office. Tamara didn't even register that he was there until she glanced up and saw him standing not two feet from her.

"General!" she gasped. "My apologies! I must've lost track of time."

"That's quite alright," he said, though his annoyed exterior proved contradictory. She leaned back in her chair.

"What can I help you with?" she asked, attempting to sound as wide awake as possible, but it was a struggle to keep her eyes open. She was feeling the urge to fight off blinking.

"Did anything happen with Ren last night?" he asked. "His behaviour has been rather – erratic, and so has yours."

Tamara knew that she didn't have much time before she started to look suspicious. A quick glance behind the General at the console area where the dark sider had been standing before was empty.

"Nothing happened," she said. "I just didn't sleep well last night, presumably because of nerves for the upcoming mission tomorrow."

It was clear in his expression that he didn't believe her, but he said nothing.

"Make sure you're prepared," he reminded, then left her office as quickly as he had arrived. Tamara sank down in her chair again, rubbing her eyes with her left hand. It was going to be nice to get away from the General's uptight attitude as well as distancing herself from Ren. It seemed as though the mission was going to be more of a pleasant experience than one of true work.

* * *

The HoloNet was vastly underwhelming. Tamara had already moved on to resting, her head resting on her fingers that were laced together as she lay on her back. Her eyes were closed, and it would only be a matter of time before she would fall asleep. She had already had her dinner and a glass of wine, which had thankfully been restocked that day when she was out. Presumably, a stormtrooper or a droid had come to refill the cabinet, but either way, it didn't matter. As long as she didn't have to worry about running into Ren anymore, she didn't have much of a care for the inner workings.

Her mission was slated to depart the next day, and though she was excited for it, she couldn't help but feel nervous about it. There were still a few unknowns and it unnerved her. Not knowing had a tendency to put her just a touch on edge, especially with her experiences with the unknown so far with the First Order. Her routine was relaxing, but when it was interrupted, it set off a spiral that developed into nerves and anxiety.

It seemed to be clockwork that it would be interrupted and the knock on her for did not startle her as much as it would've before. Tamara knew who it was. She didn't even need to stand. What she needed was some sort of self-defence, even if it would be useless. She spied the knife that she had left on her dinner plate and gripped it, tucking it away in her sleeve as the door swung open.

"Sir," she acknowledged with a nod as the masked figure stepped into her quarters. Ren stared at her, emotionless as always, though she had figured out that he communicated his emotions through his hands. One quick glance showed that his gloved fingers were relaxed, much to her partial relief. She was still tense that he had invaded her space yet again. He wanted something – there was no other reason he would be here. He had given her his warning about Hux. She didn't think he was foolish enough to sound like a broken record around her.

"What brings you here tonight, sir?" she asked, her voice carrying a slight edge. While she was still fearful, his constant interruptions were starting to be more and more annoying, even tough it had ended poorly for her the previous night.

"You and I still have something to discuss," he said, his voice eerily calm, even through the modulator. She sighed and sat up straight, clasping her hands in front of her.

"If this is about my father —" she began.

"It's not," he cut her off. "This is about you and I."

She looked at him, confused. What could he possibly want with her?

"I don't stand for your attitude and disrespect," he continued, and began to walk toward her. Slowly, the annoyance faded to fear, and she sat up straighter, her fingertips brushing the handle of the knife she had hidden in her sleeve. She doubted that she would even use it, but it brought her some comfort that she had a threat literally up her sleeve.

"Disrespect, sir?" she asked. "I don't understand."

"Drop the act, Tamara," he snapped, and she jumped. "You have an attitude. Hux puts up with it because you're his pet, but that does not work with me."

"Sir, I'm just trying to do my job without having to worry about much else, but yourself and Captain Phasma have been making that quite difficult by constantly interrupting me," she responded, knowing that she would need to choose her words carefully. He was only a few feet away from her now. "Do you expect me to simply roll over and die?"

She knew she was playing a dangerous game. Kylo Ren was a dangerous man with a dangerous temper. However, if she wanted to get a message across to him, she needed to hold her ground.

"If that's what it's going to take, don't hide a steak knife in your sleeve in plain sight," he warned. Tamara glanced down at her sleeve, and in that moment she felt the frozen feeling come over her once again. She fell back against the couch, completely pinned. Ren wasn't even holding his hand out, but he was staring intently at her. She eyed him, completely terrified now that she was at his mercy. He didn't move from his spot, and just looked down on her. She hated that he gave no indication of anything. She couldn't judge what he was going to do. It was the not knowing that scared her. He was unpredictable.

"There is something you're hiding from me, Miss Vess," he hissed. "There's always something."

What was he talking about? Was it referring to Hux? Ben's behaviour was always erratic to Tamara, but his ambiguity in the way he spoke only frightened her more. There was nothing that she had to hide from him. She wanted to appease him in order to keep him away from her, but he was intent on making her life seem like a living hell. Why was it her that he was going after? There were so many questions she had, but he never gave her any answers.

A beeping sound made him straighten up – his comm. She watched him turn his head ever so slightly, then he began to back away from her. She felt the restriction fade away as he added to the growing distance between them.

"Consider yourself lucky," he said, and was gone from her room.

Tamara only watched, partially in shock, partially in disbelief. The control he had over her was infuriating as well as terrifying. She wanted to wring his neck as much as she wanted to run. She pulled the knife out from her sleeve and tossed it onto the plate, clattering on the white porcelain and sending the sounds throughout her stilled apartment. She sat up and threaded her fingers through her hair, staring down at the black, tightly-stitched material of the couch. _I'm out of here tomorrow_ , she thought to herself. _Just get through tonight, and I will be rid of him._

* * *

 **I apologize for the delay again – exams and the holidays came right up on me, as well as falling ill for most of my break and my energy was pretty much gone for anything else. However, I did go see The Last Jedi during my holiday break (no spoilers, I promise) and was massively inspired to write again, so hopefully these chapters will be coming out faster than the pace they have been. I appreciate all the reviews, favs and follows – keep them coming!**


	10. Chapter 10

Tamara was awake in the morning when the stormtrooper officers called for her. She hadn't slept much – the feeling of restriction had crept over her anytime her body had relaxed. She had been awake for an hour prior, and had been sitting on her couch. There was no music, no HoloNet, just silence. The silence invited her mind to wander, always going back to the same subject, no matter how hard she tried to push it away. Ren refused to leave her mind.

When the knock came, she jumped up almost instantly. She couldn't wait to be leaving the Finalizer behind for a day, even if the negotiation was setting up to be dangerous. There was a convoy of stormtroopers that would be accompanying her, and though she had tried to find information on her target, she had come up empty-handed. The General had made himself scarce, leaving her with more questions than answers. She picked up her datapad and walked over to the sealed blast door, finally being able to open it herself without having it pushed up before she could react. The expressionless masks of the two stormtroopers stood, their blasters pointing at an angle down at the floor. Both of them had the red pauldrons, signifying their rank. She gave them a curt nod before they all began their walk to one of the hangars.

Each stormtrooper stood just behind Tamara on opposite sides, and she couldn't help but feel empowered. She'd had escorts before, specifically when she would be coming home from a party on Coruscant and her father had forgotten to send for a transport, which was often. Never were they armed. While the weapons were mainly for show while aboard the Finalizer, their intention was clear – intimidation. There were few stormtroopers in comparison to the enlisted and ranked officers on board, and they rarely carried weapons. Even Tamara didn't carry one, not that she cared. When she had two highly-capable soldiers protecting her, she had no reason to fear for her life. Even without that peace of mind she didn't even know how to fire a blaster. Her father had kept her very sheltered as she was groomed for her eventual First Order position.

The small party walked into the straighter wing she would be flying out of, and her stomach dropped. Her suspicion had no been for nothing. Ren was joining her on the mission. His back was to her, as he was ordering a group of stormtroopers to their convoy. Just behind him was a menacing-looking shuttle, one that she had seen when she had arrived on the Finalizer. Of course Hux was going to pair the dark sider with her. If it was to make her feel more secure that a trained warrior with a mystical power would be fighting alongside her should things to sideways, it did exactly the opposite. Given the events of the previous two nights, the last person she wanted to see was Ren. The whole purpose of her mission was to get away from him, but alas, her hope was squandered.

The black-clad figure turned as the stormtroopers approached, and he just watched her as she stopped in front of him. The ramp to his command shuttle was down, the bright lights from inside reflecting off of his mask. Both of them were silent, Tamara trying to figure out if she should feel anger or fear. It seemed as though it was a perfect blend, one that rendered her speechless.

Finally, she felt a slight tap on her shoulder. She dropped her gaze, turning just her head, the fear melting to annoyance at the stormtrooper to the right.

"Departure is in ten minutes, Miss Vess," the stormtrooper said.

Tamra lifted her head again to give Ren one last glare before she turned and walked up the ramp of the shuttle. She didn't have the energy to pick a fight with him, and she hoped that he kept his distance. He had made his point clear the previous night, if she read the situation properly. He was ruled by his pride and emotions. She was playing a dangerous game by using the same things against him.

She seated herself in the cockpit, near the back, and set her datapad on her lap. The two stormtroopers seated themselves at the controls, and she didn't give them another glance. Of all the beings on the shuttle, they were the only ones she trusted. Ren walked in shortly after.

"Keep the ride smooth, hold her steady," he commanded as he stood behind the two stormtroopers who had assumed the pilot and co-pilot positions. "I don't want my _guest_ to become ill during the journey."

His intention was to get a rise out of her, she knew. All she had to do was keep staring down at her datapad. The mission objectives were outlined in bold type for her, but she didn't need to to read them anymore. So long as she bluffed her way through the short flight, she would be fine. Ren would not be the one to negotiate – he was simply there for intimidation purposes. That was the narrative she decided to tell herself.

He sat down in the seat furthest from her, much to her relief. He was still far too close, but there was no other way to get away from him.

The ship lifted, and Tamara's hand instantly flew to the armrest on her left. She felt Ren's mask turn to look at her, but she did nothing. It wasn't her first moment of weakness in front of him, and she doubted it would be the last.

The shuttle moved effortlessly away from the Finalizer, and Tamara allowed herself to look up. The familiar orange and blue surface of her home planet lay before her, its crest just poking out from the bottom of the viewscreen. Even though it had only been a matter of days, it felt as though it had been months since she had seen her home world. Even though she was not going to be anywhere near her apartment, the sense of familiarity would give her confidence. With Ren on the mission now as well, she would need all of it.

Ren stood, gazing out for a moment before he turned. She jumped when she felt him tug on the sleeve of her greatcoat. She glanced up, and he walked into the back of the shuttle. Deciding that it would be best to follow him, she set her datapad down on top of one of the consoles before she stood and walked with him into the passenger compartment.

"You are aware of the mission objectives." It wasn't a question.

"Yes, sir," she said. "Negotiate a deal with this woman, using whatever means necessary."

"Of course Hux would say that." He wasn't talking to her. The modulator of his mask barely picked up the comment. "Correct. For the good of the First Order, I'm putting our brief history behind us, I suggest you do the same."

Tamara nodded, and Ren walked over to the very back of the shuttle, forcing open the door. Tamara stayed, watching him curiously. She wanted to go and sit back down, but she had to play it safe.

He returned with a small black blaster. "This woman tends to be…difficult," he said. "She has quite the influence, hence why she is a prime candidate to be an ally. If you must, use it as your last line of defence."

He extended it out to her, and she carefully took it in her hands, turning it over. "Thank you, sir, but I'm afraid I have no clue how to use one of these," she said.

"Then hope you don't need to learn," he said, walking back toward the cockpit. "As a final thought – should you screw this up, your time with the First Order will be limited."

 _Hell of a parting thought_. Tamara rolled her eyes. Whether or not Ren was being serious, she couldn't tell. Either way, she knew that the mission would be a long one.

* * *

When the shuttle landed outside of the duracrete building, Tamara instantly felt as though she was home. In the summers she had come home from Corulag, she never felt as relieved. No matter how short the meeting would be, she was already feeling much more confident than she had been prior.

She glanced up as she saw a transport ship lowering itself next to Ren's command shuttle. She didn't even notice that he was standing near her.

"Phasma relinquished one of her stormtrooper corps," he explained. "If this woman decides to turn against us, we will have some form of backup."

"It's not my place, sir, but if this person proves to be difficult, why is the First Order interested in becoming an ally with her?" Tamara asked. For a moment, she forgot that she was incredibly emotional over Ren. At that moment, he was just a superior.

"Because she's so dangerous, should she decide to side with the Resistance, it could be detrimental," he said. "She's powerful. Her sphere of influence seems limitless. It's someone who the First Order would rather have on its side than not."

"Fair enough," she said, watching as twenty-odd stormtroopers filed out of the transport, walking right up to where Ren and her awaited them. Their formation was perfect and they all held their blasters the same way. Tamara understood why Phasma was so proud of what she had worked to create.

"Stay out here unless I call for you," Ren commanded as the stormtroopers halted. He looked over at the two officers that had flown the shuttle, and gestured for them to follow him. Tamara just watched. Though she didn't want to give him any credit for anything, he knew how to lead.

He turned to walk, and Tamara followed him before he slowed, allowing her to catch up. "You will be doing most of the talking," he said, sounding bored. "At least try to look somewhat confident."

 _Confidence isn't my issue_ , she thought to herself as they walked to the massive doors of the meeting place.

* * *

Jaymiya Stojewe was a woman known for her fierce personality and unpredictability. When she had noticed that a representative from the First Order had requested an audience, she was amused. She played the role of a neutral party in the Cold War, but her opinions could be swayed with the promise of money. She knew that the game that she was involved with moved fast, and she needed to stay three steps ahead of her competition if she wanted to maximize her profits.

She walked at a clipped pace toward the duracrete doors, two guards flanking her. Jaymiya was in her late forties, but the stress of having to constantly have to worry about protecting herself and her way of doing business had aged her face beyond its years. She didn't really mind. To her, it meant experience, and that she wouldn't simply fold to any threat. To her, it gave her an edge.

The doors opened, and she paused, folding her hands in front of her. The thick robes that she wore covered almost all of her skin except for her face. She stare down the two figures that stood out from the stormtroopers – one dressed in tail, and the other dressed in black. She recognized the black figure first. There were few in the galaxy that didn't know who Kylo Ren was.

"Welcome," Jaymiya greeted, feigning a smile, and walked toward the girl, offering her hand. "Jaymiya Stojewe."

"Tamara Vess," the young woman responded. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Stojewe."

"Please, call me Jaymiya," she said, then glanced back at Ren, whose intense gaze had never left her face. He didn't make a move toward her, and so she disregarded him. Tamara Vess seemed to be much more peaceful to deal with.

"Please, come in," she said, stepping aside to allow the four First Order representatives inside. The area they were in was a massive hall, one that had stood for years. It had previously been used as a library, but when the Empire had seized control of Coruscant, the censorship had destroyed many publications. The New Republic had never bothered to refurbish the space, and Jaymiya had claimed it as her own. The old shelves were bare save for a thick layer of dust, and the massive stone pillars that were placed in patterns around the hall were cracked with age. She didn't mind. Most of her operation wasn't in the main hall.

Tamara, on the other hand, was calculating. She had expected Jaymiya to be much more aloof than she was displaying. The real question was whether or not it was an act. She didn't think that the First Order would label the older woman as a potentially dangerous negotiator for nothing. There was nothing that had jumped out as suspicious yet, but Tamara felt more at ease knowing that she had stormtroopers behind her. To a lesser extent, she didn't mind that Ren was around either. He was deadly with his lightsaber, and she glanced down, noticing the silver material glint in the natural light pouring through the skylights high above.

"Shall we get this meeting started?" Jaymiya asked.

"Yes, of course," Tamara said.

"Wonderful," Jaymiya said with a smile. "Follow me, if you would."

Ren stayed slightly off Tamara's pace, but still ahead of the two stormtroopers. She didn't mind. Ren would likely not be interjecting too much. Even when she had met him, he had been near-silent. Diplomatic missions seemed to bore him. _As long as he doesn't do anything rash_ , she thought.

Behind her, the front doors slammed closed. Jaymiya paused at a sealed blast door, then turned.

"The stormtroopers stay out here with my guards," she said, speaking to Ren. Tamera glanced up at him.

"Fine," he said curtly, then looked down at each of the officers. There was a silent understanding between the three of them, one Tamara could not decode fast enough.

"Thank you," Jaymiya said. "Now, let's get down to business, shall we?"

The blast door opened, revealing a large, circular table. Tamara stepped inside first, though her suspicions had been heightened. Separating the stormtroopers hardly seemed necessary considering Ren had enough power to kill all of them if he had the mind to. She glanced down at his hands – the telltale sign of his current emotion. One hand was ballad into a tight fist, and she could tell he was annoyed. _Please don't compromise this_ , she thought.

The three of them settled around the table, and Tamara set her datapad down.

"Thank you for agreeing—"

"This is a trap!" Ren interrupted, pointing right at Jaymiya. "There is no reason to lock that blast door."

Tamara jumped more than Jaymiya did. In fact, the older woman hardly seemed phased by him.

"I'm surprised that you're so sharp," she said. "As someone who prides himself on running on his temper, I didn't expect you to figure it out."

Ren reached for his lightsaber, but paused. Tamara just watched him, wide-eyed.

"My employers will be very pleased to know the inner workings of the First Order," Jaymiya said.

"Your employers?" Tamara asked. "What are you talking about?"

Jaymiya stood. "I do not justify myself to the enemy, Miss Vess," she said.

Tamara stood, seeing that Ren had his comm. in his hand. Clearly, he was not ready to be taken prisoner. At that moment, she remembered her blaster.

"Mobilize," Ren said, and Jaymiya tilted her head to the side. "You think your two officers will save you, Ren?" she asked sarcastically.

The dark enforcer could not hold back his emotions anymore. He ignited his lightsaber, staring Jaymiya down. Tamara jumped back, having never seen the signature unable blade in person before. She could feel its heat even though she was standing about five feet back from it.

"Guards!" Jaymiya called, backing away from Ren, who was ready to lunge over the table at her. Blaster fire sounded throughout the hall outside. Ren glanced back at Tamara and for a moment, he was conflicted. She saw the hesitation. He jumped in front of her. The convoy of stormtroopers had broken through. Ren grabbed Tamara by the wrist, pulling her over to the blast door, which remained sealed.

"You will pay for this," he snarled.

"Snoke does not scare me," Jaymiya said.

While he wanted to kill the woman, the stormtroopers were getting slaughtered outside. _We'll get her later_ , he thought, as much as it pained him. When he glanced up again, she was gone.

"Tamara, stay with me!" he yelled. "Do exactly as I tell you!"

"Yes sir!" she shouted back, and with that, he forcefully opened the blast doors, revealing the battle taking place outside.

Ren held onto her wrist and pulled her outside of the room, heading for the nearest pillar. Blaster bolts soared over her head, and she raised her free hand to her head. Ren swung her around so she was protected by the pillar, his free hand moving effortlessly with his lightsaber to deflect the blaster bolts.

"Get to the officers and go!" he yelled, then disappeared into the heat of the battle.

Tamara glanced around into the battlefield, spotting one of the officers across the room. She crouched, trying to keep low as she dashed from pillar to pillar. Blaster bolts smashed into the duracrete and wood of the ancient shelves, the echoing amplified. The battle was deafening. She could barely think straight. All she had to do was get to the officer. It was clear enough, but difficult. He was moving constantly, firing one Jaymiya's guards. She sunk to the floor, turning her head so she was looking straight ahead, and took a few quick breaths. _Just go_ , she yelled in her head. With one final breath, she jumped up and raced to the next pillar. A blaster bolt shattered the shelf nearest to her, and she let out a frightened yell, trying to shield her body from the splintered wood as it exploded twenty feet from her. She got lower to the ground and dove down behind the last pillar. The officer was not far now. In fact, he had spotted her, and was beginning to advance toward her. Four other stormtroopers followed him.

"Let's go, Miss Vess," he said as they reached her. "Stay between us!"

Within seconds, she was standing again and was surrounded by white. Each trooper was firing at the guards, hoping for the bolts to find their marks. Tamara glanced away. She couldn't witness the horrors of a battle, not yet. She wasn't ready to see it. Instead, she focused on the white armour of the stormtroopers, the red blaster bolts reflecting on the plastoid. She knew that she was putting her faith in the officers to get her out without her focusing on the battle, and it was a dangerous play, but she didn't know what else to do.

They made their way to the doors sooner than she thought and finally, she was free.

"Stay back!" the officer said, and she ducked behind one of the pillars that made up the exterior of the building. Blaster bolts ceased, and she looked up at the sky, wondering what she had gotten herself into. Even Ren was preferable to this fate.

Then she remembered. Ren. He needed help. She stood as the four stormtroopers approached her again.

"We need to get to the shuttle," he said.

"No," she said defiantly.

"Miss Vess, I've been ordered —"

"And I am overturning that," she said firmly. "Ren, your brothers, need help in there. We can't just leave them in there."

"Kylo Ren is far more powerful than you believe," the officer said. "He has it under control."

"Officer," she said. "This is an order. We go back, and we help him." She reached into her coat and pulled out the small blaster Ren had given her on the shuttle mere hours ago. "All of us."

The officer was clearly conflicted, knowing not to go against Ren. The dark enforcer had ordered all stormtroopers to get Tamara out of things did not go as planned. However, Tamara outranked the stormtroopers.

"Stay close," he said reluctantly. "And turn the safety off. If Ren asks, you're the one taking the fall."

"Deal," she said, glancing down at the blaster, clicking the safety off before nodding.

"Rally back!" he called to the other three. "We're going back in. No survivors."

The five of them rushed back into the battle, and Tamara ducked as soon as she was back inside. Jaymiya's guards had not stood much of a chance, but there were still casualties on the First Order's side. She glance dup, seeing Ren fighting off one of the guards. He moved gracefully, the lightsaber looking more like an extension of his arm than a separate weapon. The way he fought was mesmerizing – something she never would've thought about him. His movements were fluid but deadly. He knew exactly what he was doing, and even though his anger and temper was fuelling his power, there was something peaceful about him. The first word that came to Tamara was beauty, but she denied it. There was no way he was beautiful.

She snapped out of her trance as more blaster bolts flew closer to her. She spotted a small group of guards and fired three shots at them. Each one collided with the wall, and she let out a frustrated growl. While she had never fired a blaster before, her anger didn't subside. All it did was alert one of the guards of her presence. A blaster bolt soared right by her, and she blinked in surprise as she dodged it. She glanced around again, then let out two more shots. Two more misses. She didn't have time. The guard was closing in on her. She let out a small breath, then squeezed the trigger. Finally, a hit. The guard dropped to his knees as the bolt hit him in the shoulder, glancing up just to see Ren's unstable lightsaber inches from his face.

The sounds of the battle stopped as the last guard fell, and slowly, Tamara stood from her spot behind the pillar. Ren's back was to her, and she stayed back. She fully expected him to scream at her for disobeying him. He had done far worse to her for less.

The scene was one that Tamara never expected to see. She was not a solider, but at that point, there wasn't much separating the two. The hall was covered in bodies, most being Jaymiya's guards, but a few were stormtroopers. She bowed her head in respect. Jaymiya had proven to be a difficult negotiator, and now the thin stormtrooper corps would be stretched thinner due to the casualties. Phasma would not be happy with the news.

"Sir, Stojewe escaped," one of the stormtroopers said.

Angrily, the dark sider brought his lightsaber down on the duracrete, making it spark. The trooper didn't even flinch. Ren's displays were common, but Tamara stepped back. His head shot up and turned toward her. She swallowed, hoping that he would let her go, just this one time. She was expecting to be frozen once again, locked in place, unable to speak, unable to move. It seemed to be a go-to for him. It gave him power. No one else had the Force to combat him, even though they wanted to.

Instead, he motioned to her to come to him. She gave him a confused look, but nevertheless walked over to him.

"Inform the Finalizer that we will be laying low for a day on Coruscant," he said to the stormtroopers. "There is a safe house not far from here. The transporter will have the co-ordinates. Go, rest up. We will return to the Finalizer tomorrow." He glanced down at Tamara. "You will be coming with me."

* * *

 **Finally got to writing a longer chapter! Really excited for the direction this story is going to start taking now.**


	11. Chapter 11

Tamara paid no attention to Ren as she settled down into his shuttle once again. She noticed that the officers weren't there and that Ren was flying on his own, but she didn't give it much thought. Her mind was still reeling after the brief skirmish and she couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. After all, they had been sent to protect her. Stormtroopers had died for her. Surely, they could've died for something more noble. Phasma would not be particularly thrilled when the news reached her. The stormtrooper captain had been reluctant to release the squadron in the first place, and now the troops were spread thinner than ever. The new corps that were up and coming were still months away from being battle ready, and she had lost some dedicated fighters.

On the other hand, she had seen a different side of Ren. She had never seen him fight before, had never seen the cross guarded red lightsaber in person before. The way he had handled the battle had been in such a way that showed his leadership. She still feared him more than anything, but for once, she felt as though he was trying to protect her, even if he was obligated to.

The shuttle halted, and Tamara glanced up as it carefully lowered itself. The ride had been far too short to return to the Finalizer, and she looked over at Ren curiously.

"Where are we, sir?" she asked, careful to not let formalities slip her mind.

"Jaymiya has forces all over," he explained, rising from the pilot's seat. "The First Order High Command, as well as myself, have safe houses across the Core and other planets should we need to lie low. We will need to keep our movements as limited as possible to assist in tracking her. We cannot kick up dust, for she will flee across the galaxy if she knows of our exact location."

Tamara stood, smoothing out the wrinkles that had formed in her greatcoat and followed him down the ramp of the shuttle. He walked ahead of herm not bothering to wait, but as soon as she walked outside, she stopped. The safe house was near the area that she had called home. She closed her eyes, the sense of familiarity washing over her like never before. Even though Ren was prowling, she didn't even notice him; he was insignificant in the grand scheme of the planet. She felt the rays of Coruscant Prime on her face, slowly beginning to die out as the superstructures blocked its light. There was a slight breeze, one that she had felt many times before. Slowly, she opened her eyes, seeing that Ren was standing off to the side within a blast door frame, clearly impatient.

"Apologies," she said quickly, then walked at a clipped pace by him, her shoulders hunched forward and her body language closed off. She didn't mean for him to be watching her. Though she had only been away from the planet for a mere six days, it seemed like months to her.

Once she was inside, she glanced around, seeing that the apartment was adorned in a way similar to the Finalizer. Sharp, angular darkened walls made up the majority of the design, though there was a couch and an armchair sitting off-centre and a cabinet on the wall to her left.

"Make yourself comfortable, we'll be staying the night," Ren said, brushing past her and into the hallway at the far end of the room. Tamara glanced down at the dark floor, unsure of what to do. Her datapad had been lost in the battle, condemned to remain the rest of its life on the floor of the abandoned library. She ripped her cap off her head and tossed it onto the couch, pulling the pins out of her hair and letting it fall down around her shoulders. The greatcoat came off next, and she folded it carefully, setting it down on the arm of the couch, along with her cap. She shuffled the pins around in her palm, electing to just keep them with the rest of her stuff. She knew that she was in Ren's apartment now, and the last thing she wanted to do was be more invasive than she already was. He was mostly likely equally as thrilled with the arrangement as she was. With a sigh, she dropped down onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling.

She heard him return and instantly sat back up. He had removed his robe, though his mask and gloves remained firmly in place. He ignored her staring as he walked over to the couch, electing to sit next to her. She instantly distanced herself from him as much as she could. She glanced over at the cabinet.

"I need a drink after today," she said, half to herself. "Do you have any alcohol in there, sir?"

Ren looked over at her. "We can drop the formalities, Tamara," he said. She turned her head to hide her wince. She was not used to the idea of him calling her by her first name. "And yes, in the cabinet."

She stood, grateful to get away from him, if only for a few minutes. She pulled the door open and looked through the selection of bottles there were. She needed something strong.

"I need one too," he said from behind her, and she glanced over her shoulder. Deciding that it was best not to question him, she nodded.

"Cornelian whiskey on the rocks?" she asked.

"Fine by me."

She pulled the bottle out before searching for glasses and ice. As she did so, her mind continued to question him in her mind. Surely, he needed the mask. Why else would he wear it? Even Phasma had been unmasked in front of Tamara, twice, yet Ren had kept his on. And now, he was asking her for a drink. Surely, she could not have foreseen a stranger set of circumstances.

She poured the whiskey slowly, the ice snapping as the warm liquid flowed over it. She set the bottle down and passed for a moment before she picked up both of the glasses. Ren watched her as she extended one out to him, and he took it with nothing more than a nod. Carefully, she seated herself back in her spot, unsure of what to do next. Part of her wanted to down the entire thing, but she knew that wouldn't end well for anyone. Instead, she set her glass down before tangling her fingers in her hair, staring out the windows at the airspeeders. Never did she think that she would miss their constant activity. The Finalizer was eerily quiet when the higher-ranked officers were off their shifts. The hallways were quiet. They were in the vast nothingness of space. It seemed as though she was completely alone, but with Coruscant, it seemed to buzz. Activity was everywhere. There was no stillness anywhere on the planet.

Tamara glanced over at the sound of metal clunking and hissing. She nearly dropped her glass. Ren had decided to unmask himself, and he slowly pulled the mask away from his before tossing it to the armchair as though it was simply an object to be discarded. She didn't know what she expected from Ren, but she didn't expect him to be a man not much older than her with loosely-curled black hair, pale skin, dark eyes. The thing that threw her off the most was how innocent he looked. He didn't have the face of a cold-blooded killer. He didn't look violent. But there was one more thing.

"You're Ben Solo," she said, her voice hardly more than a whisper. His eyes immediately turned and his jaw tightened.

"That name is forbidden to speak by decree of the Supreme Leader," he snapped, then reached back for his glass, relaxing as his gloved fingers traced to rim of it before bringing it up to his face. "How did you know anyway?"

"Your mother, mostly," she said. "Politics were a constant topic in my family, as you may have known. You were seen on the HoloNet quite often with her."

The last time Ben Solo had been broadcasted on the HoloNet was when he was in his early twenties, before he had disappeared from the news altogether. The rumours had said that he had gone to train with his uncle. Tamara paid them no mind. She was not one to meddle with the personal lives of senators, nor did she care. She had never even though about Ben Solo until now. It had been about seven years since she had last seen his face on the news.

Ren seemed to be satisfied with her answer. "And now you know why I hide my face," he said, sipping his drink then placing it on his thigh. His features were effeminate, more than she remembered. Then again, her memories were fuzzy.

"May I ask you something?" she asked before she sipped her own drink. She made a face as the bitter liquid touched her tongue, but she swallowed it anyway.

"Depends on what it is," he said. He was much more approachable without the modulator. He wasn't as intimidating. That didn't mean she wasn't still afraid.

"How long have you been part of the First Order?" she asked, hoping that it was safe enough.

"Six years," he said simply. She knew that was going to be all she would get from him. Clearly he wasn't one for small talk. That didn't really bother her, though she had even more questions about the man now that she knew his true identity. Still, she didn't want to push him. He tilted his head back and downed the rest of his drink before slamming the glass down on the table next to him.

"Listen…" She didn't know what to call him. "I just wanted to thank you for saving me. You outrank me and you still put your life on the line for me."

Ren shrugged. "I didn't have much of a choice," he responded. "I was assigned to this mission."

"You didn't have to protect me," she said. "The stormtroopers had to. Some of them ended up paying with their lives. You got me out of there. You didn't have to. They could've come to get me."

Ren leaned back, staring straight ahead thinking. All she could think about was how much easier it was to speak with him in this informal setting. The mask was a welcome absence.

Somewhere in the room, a datapad began to buzz and beep. He stood from the couch and walked behind her. Tamara turned away, doubting that she would get a response from him.

"General Hux," he spoke clearly. Even without the modulator, his voice was strong.

"What is your status, Ren? Where is Miss Vess?" the General asked. He seemed frantic.

"She is with me at my safe house," Ren answered. "The other stormtroopers have gone to their own safe houses further from here. We shall be staying the night."

"We are trying to find Jaymiya," Hux said. "She is proving to be rather difficult to find."

"Hence why I ordered them to lay low," he said. "If there is nothing by morning, we will return to the Finalizer."

"Keep me informed," Hux said, and the line went silent. Ren set the datapad down again, and Tamara turned to look at him.

"Perhaps now that we're alone, you can explain to me what you warned me about when we first met," Tamara challenged. Ren glanced up to look at her.

"My warning doesn't need to be explained," he said simply. "Even I do not know what Hux has in store for you, but I have my suspicions."

"Are you saying I shouldn't trust you?" she asked.

"You already don't – it shouldn't be a major change," he shot back.

 _Don't argue_ , she thought to herself. She reached for her glass and took another sip, the whiskey burning her throat and the surpassed the urge to cough. "A refill, sir?"

"You may call me Ren for tonight," he responded. "And yes."

She stood and grabbed his empty glass, the half-melted ice cubes clinking around the bottom of the glass. He was standing at the window, staring out into the bustle of Coruscant.

"How did you live here for so long?" he asked. "No order, no rest."

Tamara glanced up, measuring how to respond to him. "When you live in a place for twenty-six years, you learn to ignore the actions of others," she said. Ren turned away from the window and resumed his previous spot on the couch. She brought his glass back over to him and he took it from her.

"So what happens now?" she asked. "Am I ousted, as you told me?"

Ren glanced over at her. "That's out of my hands," he said. "Whatever Hux and the Supreme Leader decide past this will be what stands."

"I didn't know the Supreme Leader would be involved," Tamara muttered.

"He is involved in most decisions regarding the higher-ranked officers," Ren explained. "There aren't many, making it much easier."

"Can't help but think this won't look particularly good for me," she said, resting her forehead against her hand.

"If it's any comfort, this risk was realized well before you were sent out," Ren offered. "We knew who this woman was. There was a reason I came with you and not just a stormtrooper convoy. She's dangerous."

Tamara smiled. "I'm certainly not cut out for field work."

"You knew this was not going to be easy."

"I guess so. I had been groomed for this job my entire life – I couldn't just turn it down."

"You you could've always gone against your father."

Tamara sighed, annoyed with his constant pressing of her relationship with Everett Vess.

"Why does it matter so much?" she snapped.

Ren glanced over at her, and for a moment, she thought she had grossly overstepped her boundaries. However, she could read his face, and it was one of amusement than of anger.

"You have no spine," he answered. "Who cares what your father wants you to do? It's not his life."

 _Acting civil, are we?_ she thought. While his power had not left him, he seemed to be far more relaxed. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was that he wasn't nearly as scary without the mask. In fairness, it was probably both.

"Again, why does it concern you?" she asked, her voice still carrying an edge to it.

"I'm just speaking my mind," he responded. "You were so afraid of me when we first met that you didn't even realize I was analyzing your movements and mannerisms."

"It's difficult to tell when you're wearing that mask," she shot back.

Ren stood, and Tamara watched him cautiously. "It's what makes it so appealing," he said sarcastically.

She leaned back against the couch, hating the fact that he was so difficult. If anything, she just wanted him to go to the back of the apartment and not come back out until they were to go back to the Finalizer. However, that was not her reality. He was standing at the cabinet, but wasn't pouring himself another drink.

"Can we have an enjoyable evening?" she asked.

Ren turned slowly, clearly amused. "That depends if you're going to be terrified of me all night."

"I'll do my best," she said reluctantly.

While she was still afraid of him, he was a much different person without the mask on. It could also be that they were technically off duty and needed some time to relax. Maybe the mask was a persona. It was certainly seeming like it was.

"Is there any food here?" she asked, suddenly aware of the sudden hunger pangs in the pit of her stomach.

"I can call for a droid to bring something," he said. "This entire block of apartments is First Order property."

"That would be wonderful," she said.

She stood carefully, snatching the glass from the table, and walked to the window. She was far from her own home, but that didn't matter. Coruscant was all one giant city to her and everyone else in the galaxy.

"Where is the safe house for the stormtroopers?" she asked.

"Away from here," he answered, his voice nearing her. "East, somewhere. I'm not exactly sure of its location."

"Why not keep them here?" she asked, turning her head slightly to look at him.

"A few reasons," she said. "First, if the enemy happened to find out that this is where we are stationed, it makes us all sitting ducks all congregated in one spot. Secondly, they are stormtroopers. Like the Finalizer, their barracks are much different and cramped than the suites that you and I have. They do not have the rank to command a safe house like this one."

There was a large pause between the two of them, and Tamara did not care to break it. He was standing close to her; she could sense him just over her shoulder. She downed the rest of the whiskey and made a face as she did so before letting her arm drop.

"They may not have the rank that you and I have, but you know that they saved my life today," she said, turning her head in his direction. "They listened to me and stood by me when I went back."

Ren walked over to her side, and she noticed he had filled his glass again. "I will say that they did go against my orders, and for that, I was angry with them," he said. "But I underestimated you as well as Jaymiya. I didn't think you had it in you to go defy my orders."

"While the two of us may not have the best relationship, you're still part of the First Order," she said. "I want to make sure that my own are safe."

"You should know by now that I'm never safe," he said, turning away and walking over to the blast door across the room. "I can't even unmask myself without someone recognizing me."

"Your personality without the mask is much more pleasant to deal with," she said.

"And you must remember that we're off duty right now – I can act as I please," he said, pressing the button to send the door up. On the other side, a droid on the other side. Tamara looked away as Ren attended to it. Though the mask was off, he still seemed to be very defensive toward her. Being recognized as soon as his face was visible for the first time probably didn't help the situation, but she was sure that she could get him to open up, even just a little bit. She glanced down at her empty glass in her hand and crossed the floor to where the depleting bottle sat on the counter under the white light.

Ren shut the door again, passing behind her, the smell of food wafting across the room, and she turned to look. He set two identical trays down on the coffee table, each one with the exact same food. The smell was intoxicating, tempting her

He must've noticed her staring at the food. "Smoked nerf, potatoes," he said. "Standard meal around here. Access to better food isn't an option."

Tamara cracked a small smile. "I'm not complaining," she responded. "Most of the time I just eat whatever is featured on the Finalizer."

"You'll come to see that the Finalizer, while not our flagship, hosts some of the best food," he explained. "Most of our commanding officers are stationed there. It only makes sense to take care of them."

She poured another ounce of the fiery liquid over the diminishing ice cubes, not particularly caring to respond. She didn't want to set him off. Finding that threshold was proving to be difficult. His emotions changed so quickly and without warning, she needed to tread carefully.

"Are you just going to stand there all night?" he asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. Tamara picked up her glass and walked over to her self-proclaimed spot on the couch, slamming the glass down on the coffee table. She wasn't intentionally trying to make a statement, but she could live perfectly fine without his snarky remarks. However, she would take his comments over him exercising his Force abilities on her. He watched her with one raised eyebrow, as if he was making sure she wasn't about to do anything rash. Considering the events of the day, his skepticism was valid.

The food in front of her was different than anything she had seen before, but it looked appetizing. The savoury smell made her mouth water, and she was painfully reminded of the lack of food she'd had that day. Still, she wanted to be as proper as she could. Old habits died hard, especially when years were spent engraining habits from the Coruscanti elite. However, Ren wasn't even paying attention to her. He seemed too enamoured with his own meal. She figured it was a safe bet to guess that he was in a similar position to her. He seemed to be lost in thought.

Ren glanced down to his datapad as it lit up. Tamara set her fork down. "Is something wrong?" she asked.

He held is hand up as he examined the information that sprawled across the screen. She sat back on the couch, picking up her glass, waiting. There was the very real possibility that Ren would refuse to divulge any information to her, but he had been fairly open with her so far. Even if he didn't, she would likely press him for it, though she was still wary of him. The whiskey was numbing her senses, and she could feel it taking hold of her with every new sip. Her head was starting to swim, though she could still process everything just fine. Her tolerance was higher than it perhaps needed to be.

"Hux thought that he had a lead," Ren said. "It appears that it was false."

"I wouldn't be surprised if Jaymiya has done just as we have," she offered. "She's fleeting – I doubt she's stupid enough to try and flee the planet with the Finalizer still in orbit."

"None of your research accounts for her unpredictability," Ren stated. "She hasn't survived for this long based on figuring out possible outcomes. She always seems to be one step ahead of us all."

Tamara glanced out the window, letting out an exasperated sigh before turning back to Ren. "We'll catch her again," she said, her confidence returning to her in that moment. Ren glanced up from his datapad. She took it as a sign to keep going. "She cannot leave as long as we're around."

"And how do you plan to track her through filtering one trillion residents on this planet?" he asked.

"I was part of the Coruscanti elite. I have contacts I can put a word out to. One of them is bound to find her at some point."

For the first time, she saw him smile, genuinely. "I'll let Hux know we have a lead." Tamara couldn't help but feel pleased with herself. She knew that she needed to make up for this failure, and if she was the one to find Jaymiya, it would save her. Ren looked up at her again, much more at ease. While she did not understand the Force, she could sense that he was much more relaxed. What he failed to realize was how much that simple moment told her. If he took her at her word, she had power over him. Anything that she could use against him would be a welcome turn from what usually occurred between the two pf them. For the first time, she saw the boy that she had once seen on the HoloNet, standing next to his mother.

However, it faded as soon as it appeared. A streak of darkness flashed across his face, as though he was remembering that he could not show any positive emotion. Then it was replaced with conflict. She watched with intrigue. He didn't even seem conscious that he was so obviously bearing secrets to her.

He reached for his own glass, and she watched him partially through her eyelashes. "Cheers, to the First Order," he said, raising it toward her.

"To the First Order."

* * *

 **Apologies again for the super late chapter! Class started kicking my ass nice and early in the semester, and this past week has been the week from hell (fried my laptop plus a multitude of other things). I'll be trying to catch up with uploading now that I have a small break, and hopefully this chapter was worth the wait!**


	12. Chapter 12

The pain in Tamara's neck woke her in the morning. She turned over, instantly getting hit with a wave of nausea. Her hand flew up to her forehead as she struggled to regain her bearings. She didn't think that she'd had a lot to drink last night. Apparently, she was mistaken. The hangover wasn't horrible – some water and drugs and she would be fine. Falling asleep on the couch had not helped the situation either, as her neck and back were both aching, a sharp pain in her lower back. She stretched out as far as she could on the couch before letting her arms fall across her side again. She was staring at the main exit door, where the command shuttle waited for them.

She froze as she heard movement from the back of the room and shut her eyes. She was still exhausted, even though her stomach was starting to turn. She didn't know how much longer she would be able to remain in her position before she needed to sprint to the back.

Ren closed the distance between them, and she tried to remain perfectly still. The sound of clinking glass and dishes moving on the countertop filled the apartment. The last thing she wanted was to draw attention to herself. However, he was much more attentive than she gave him credit for.

"You have fifteen minutes to get ready," his modulated voice boomed. She jumped. "And let me remind you that we're back on duty. Nothing that happened last night means anything, understood?"

Tamara pushed herself up to a sitting position and turned to look at him. "Yessir," she said with a nod. Maybe it was because she was hungover and not in the mood to put up with any of his antics, but she didn't feel the intense sense of fear that she normally did around him anymore. She stood slowly, not wanting to further upset her turning stomach. If he was hungover, he was doing a fantastic job of hiding it. He had a knack for doing that.

"I just need some water first," she said, moving slowly to the counter. "Hard alcohol is not something I play with often."

Ren vacated the space as she approached, crossing to the other side of the apartment where his datapad lay. Tamara looked over at him as he passed, but did not press him. It was all but confirmed that he would revert to being the closed off, mysterious figure that he had been before, even though she knew his true identity. It didn't change much – she never knew Ben Solo personally and had only seen brief flashes of him on the HoloNet – but she knew his face. Something about knowing who he was comforted her, even though she knew it shouldn't. He was not a good man; he was dangerous and volatile. One wrong step could spell the end for her.

Reaching for a new glass, Tamara moved slowly. Her stomach was starting to turn more, and she knew that she didn't have much time before she needed to dash for the bathroom. One day, she would learn how to hold her liquor better. Until then, she just needed to fight through it. She filled the glass with water from the tap and drank it all, even though it was the last thing she wanted to do with her stomach doing cartwheels. However, her fifteen minutes had started, and she knew that she did not have much time to waste. Glancing over her shoulder one last time, she walked toward the back of the apartment.

* * *

When Tamara had disappeared to the back of the apartment, Kylo Ren did not pay much attention to her. He was attempting to sort out his own feelings toward her. She knew who he was, who he had been. He knew that revealing his face to her was a risk, but never did he expect her to recognize him. She seemed to have lived a sheltered life, and did not acquaint her with the type of person to meddle in politics. He had chosen to take that risk, and now it was coming back to haunt him. She was still wary of him, and she always would be, but the raw fear that had existed just the day before was no longer there. To him, kit meant a loss of control. If she did not fear him, he could not control her. It was how he had made himself such a commanding figure in the galaxy. Not being able to have that power worried him.

He glanced down at his datapad as is flashed at him again, noticing that Hux was calling. He rolled his eyes before accepting the call.

"General Hux," he stated, his own form of a welcome.

"There have been no updates from Miss Vess' contacts," he said. "We've been monitoring the airspace and checking ships as they depart."

"And has there been any sign of her?" Ren pressed.

"Not yet, unfortunately," he said. "Some of the contacts have been monitoring for her as well."

"Are you sure they're trustworthy?" Ren asked.

Hux gave him a look that spoke only of disdain. "I trust that Miss Vess is not leading us on," he said, his voice low and his tone cutting. "Where is she?"

"Getting ready to depart."

"ETA?"

"One hour, maybe more."

"Ensure that you make your exit quickly. The stormtroopers are staying onsite in case there are any leads found."

Ren nodded, and the call was ended. By far, one of his least favourite things about his rank was having to deal with Hux. To say that the two men did not like each other was a massive understatement. Their goals were the same, but neither one had patience for the other. It made for many childish arguments during the time that they spent on the Finalizer, which was more than Ren liked.

He glanced up as another presence entered the room. Tamara still looked like she felt ill, but she had managed to fix herself up in a way so that she could fake it if she needed to. Her uniform still needed some attention to it, but

"I took some of the medication, I hope that's alright," she said to him.

"Fine," he said, picking up his datapad. "It'll be about an hour to get back to the Finalizer; make sure you have enough to get through."

"I'll be fine," she said, walking over to the shut door that led out to the shuttle. "Did the General get in contact with you?"

"Yes," Ren answered curtly, doing a quick walk around to ensure nothing was out of place. "Some of you contacts have responded. There are still no leads."

"Give it time," she said. "They need a few hours, I'd suppose. Coruscant is a big place."

Ren said nothing. It was clear that their relationship was different now, and he wasn't sure what to make of it. He pulled his hood up to rest on top of his helmet.

"Let's go," he commanded, opening the blast door in front of her. "We don't have much time to waste."

* * *

The flight back to the Finalizer was quiet. Almost no words were exchanged between the two First Order officers. Tamara had asked about the stormtroopers, and Ren had given the curt answer that they were remaining onsite in case any leads should crop up. Other than that, Tamara just stared out the viewscreen at her home planet slowly shrinking below. A flight that would've once contained immense tension was now much more relaxed, and she revelled in it. While Kylo Ren was not her friend, not even close, she felt strangely at ease. It was probably because of a number of factors. She had never seen him fight before, and she still remembered being slightly mesmerized by the grace and power that he had when if came to the battlefield. She didn't know if he had been calm, but he certainly looked that way.

The other factor was definitely that he was the son of a war hero and an accomplished politician. She knew who Leia Organa was. She remembered the headlines when Organa had formed the Resistance. Her father had been beside himself. He had said that the Resistance would pose no threat, yet it remained five years later. With it being backed by the New Republic, it was goring to be a force in the Cold War. However, Tamara knew how to exploit their weaknesses. The New Republic was still tumultuous at best, and with the First Order buying their way into certain senators, it was easy to gain insight as to what was truly happening. She had not yet had to target the Resistance to put her initial plan in motion, but she knew that she would have to at some point. It was, after all, the reason she was hired in the first place.

The ship smoothly exited Coruscant's atmosphere, the Finalizer cruising safely in orbit. She could see the ship closing in on them, and leaned back in her seat. When she got back, the first thing she wanted to do was get her uniform pressed. It was filthy from all the duracrete dust that had fallen on her during the battle, and she wanted nothing more than to rid herself of all remnants from it. She was sure it smelled like alcohol too, something she did not want lingering. She had a feeling there would be questions, and the last thing she wanted was for rumours to spread. She wanted to be seen as someone who stayed immaculate and had great attention to every little detail about her appearance, not a drunk who looked like she had just crawled out from Coruscant's Undercity.

The Finalizer had engulfed the view screen as Ren prepared the ship for approach. In only a few moments, she would be free to be on her own again, away from the stress of dealing with Ren. While the tension had faded, her wariness would always stay with her. There wasn't much he could do to rectify her past experiences with him, and she doubted he ever would.

* * *

When the command shuttle landed in one of the docking bays, Tamara was quick to escape from its confines and put as much distance between her and Ren as possible. He didn't try to stop her as she walked through the bustling bay, and no one paid her any attention. If anything, all they did was simply move over for her. The teal uniform that she wore, while dirtied, was still in effect. She was still a senior officer. However, they did not scramble to get away from her like they did with Ren. She did not instil fear in them the way he did. It was a mutual respect, not an attempt to clear the path for a man that may or may not be in a mood to kill. She had only heard rumours of how destructive he could truly be, and with everything she knew now, it was difficult to pin his face to all the chaos he reigned over the galaxy through the past few years. He was the son of an accomplished senator, yet he had such differing views now. The person he had become was a far-cry from his roots, but she didn't dwell on it for too long. She felt grimy and just wanted to wash away everything that had happened in the previous day. Her hangover had slightly subsided, but she also wanted to try and sleep it off as much as she could. As long as no one else bothered her for the rest of the day, she would be fine. The last thing she needed was to be hounded over what had happened.

Luckily, other officers and stormtroopers seemed uninterested in her and simply let her pass. She was surprised that she hadn't received anything from Hux yet – she would've expected him to touch base with her or Ren as soon as possible. However, there had been no contact. Part of her was grateful. She didn't want to deal with the General until she was in a much more presentable state. She even felt self-conscious walking the halls of the Finalizer to the lift that she needed, knowing that she looked like she had jut crawled out of a mine. She quickened her pace, deciding that the refresher was becoming much more enticing with every minute she spent away from it.

The docking bay was not far from the lift to the senior officer's section, which Tamara was thankful for. She reached the lift quickly, and the amount of people that were around declined significantly. The lift lowered to her level, and she smiled to herself in relief seeing that it was empty. Stepping inside, she quickly pressed the corresponding button and ran her fingers through her tangled hair. She had tried to get as many of the knots out as she could before she left the safe house, but she'd had limited tools to do so with. It wasn't horrible, but with she was obsessed with her appearance. It was something that was drilled into her from a young age. Image was everything.

The lift stopped at a floor short of her own, and she straightened up as the doors opened. She blinked as the familiar chrome-armoured stormtrooper walked in.

"Captain," Tamara acknowledged with a nod.

"Miss Vess, good to see that you've arrived safely," Phasma greeted. The two women stood next to each other, staring straight ahead as the doors closed once more.

"That depends on your definition of safely, Captain," Tamara replied with a smirk. "I'm hardly presentable at the moment."

"I'm sure you'll rectify that once you get back to your quarters," Phasma responded.

"That's the plan," Tamara said, rubbing one of her eyes. "Unless I need to debrief, though I haven't heard anything."

"General Hux will call for you eventually," Phasma said. "However, you probably need to collect your thoughts with everything that happened yesterday."

"That's putting it lightly," Tamara responded, and glanced over at the captain. "Your troops were excellent in battle – you should be proud"

Though Phasma wore her helmet, shielding her face, Tamara could tell that the older women was smiling. "I am," she said after a moment's pause. "It's always encouraging to see such results."

There was another pause between the two of them as the lift slowed at Tamara's floor.

"After you debrief with the General, come to the bar at nineteen-hundred," Phasma said. "I too need to be filled in on what has happened with my troops."

"Of course, Captain," Tamara said with a nod, and exited the lift.

* * *

Tamara woke again on a couch, but this time, it was her own. She was clean from all the duracrete and her hangover had subsided to a slight ache in her stomach that was barely noticeable. One more pill would mask it completely.

She sat up and pushed her hair away from her face, still groggy. Her hair still felt heavy from the shower she had taken. Exhaustion and taken hold of her quickly afterwards and she had crashed on her couch. She glanced over at the new datapad that awaited her, sitting on her coffee table. The time on it displayed that she had about two hours before she would go to meet Phasma. Unlike what the captain had suggested, Hux had not yet made his way to her room for questioning. She hoped that he didn't. She wanted to try and forget what had happened. She doubted that Ren would've blabbed about the events that took place in the safe house, but she couldn't be sure. She did not trust the man in black, and had little reason to. Even though he had fought to protect her, she still was unsure how to truly assess him. He proved to be difficult to read at the best of times, even with his mask off. She'd picked up on little behaviours – the way his jaw seemed to pop forward when he talked, the intense way he stared down someone he was speaking to. There was still a lot she didn't understand about him.

Deciding that Kylo Ren was not worth thinking about any longer, Tamara stood from the couch and walked toward the back of her suite into her bedroom. She didn't know the proper dress code for the bar, but her lounging outfit was likely not appropriate. She didn't bring much from home; she doubted that there would've been much to warrant an extravagant wardrobe. She did have something that wasn't too formal – a simple black shirt with blank pants, so she hoped that she wouldn't have to worry too much about unwanted attention.

There was a knock on her door, and Tamara glanced up, her heart beginning to pound. Ren had certainly not left her much time to get reacquainted with her apartment, should he be the one behind the door. She set down her makeup brush and walked out into the living area of the suite, over to the door, her mind racing all the while. If it was Ren, he surely would've broken in by now, but she had no idea if he had changed his opinion of her, even just slightly. She pressed the button and the door slid upward.

Instead of Ren, it was someone she was rather mixed to see. "General," she said with a nod. "Is there something I can do for you."

Hux stood with his head bowed slightly. It was clear that he hadn't slept well the night before. "I came to ensure that you made it back safely," he said. Tamara smiled at him.

"As well as I could, given what happened," she responded, trying to maintain professionalism, though the circumstances were anything but.

Hux nodded, his face remaining emotionless. "Come with me," he said. "I must talk to you about the events of yesterday in a more appropriate setting."

"Yessir," she said. "I just need to get my coat, if that's alright."

He gave her a slight motion with his hand, signalling that she was partially dismissed. Quickly, she picked up her greatcoat and slung it over her shoulders, not bothering to button it. She slid her arms through as she walked back to the open door where Hux waited. He turned as she neared him, taking off toward the lift. Subtly, Tamara rolled her eyes. She was hoping to be able to escape from any confrontation with Hux, but it seemed inevitable now. At least it was a better option than Ren.

* * *

The bridge was still bustling with activity as the pair reached it. It was closing in on a shift change, and soon the hallways would be packed full of officers and stormtroopers, all scrambling to get to their quarters to relax as long as they could. Kylo Ren stood on the bridge, his hands placed on either side of him, the void mask looking out over the etched orange and blue surface of Coruscant. The Finalizer had remained in orbit, still waiting on any updates on Jaymiya's position.

Tamara ignored Ren, and he kept her back turned to her and Hux. The General had other ideas. He stepped so that he was between Tamara and Ren. While the Force user was not looking at them, he seemed to sense the shift in tension in the room, and turned his head ever so slightly. Quickly, Tamara diverted her gaze, opting to stare at the floor instead.

Hux herded her into a room she had never seen before, but was instantly recognizable as his office. It overlooked the bridge, and as they walked inside, he immediately darkened the windows to make them appear as though it was a mirror from the outside. However, they could still see out into the bridge.

"Have my contacts provided you with any information, General?" Tamara asked as Hux turned to face her.

"Somewhat," he answered, though it was clear he did not want to be answering. "Nothing solid that we can pursue."

"They'll come through for you," she said. "I trust them."

Hux immediately decided to change the subject. "What happened last night?" he asked.

The question had been coming for a while, Tamara had anticipated. "Kylo Ren saved my life," she started. "We went to the safe house, as you know. Nothing happened. He was in the back of the apartment, I was in the front. There wasn't much room for interaction."

She had to be careful with how she chose her words. While she would love to tarnish Ren's image and oust him as the son of Leia Organa and Han Solo, two figures that had fought against the First Order and its predecessor, the repercussions would likely be less than pleasant. She got the feeling that Hux did not like Ren, but she was sure Ren had his ways of finding out. He seemed to be everywhere.

"No interactions?" Hux asked. "He told you nothing?"

"Very little," she said. "He told me that we would be staying the night and would go back the next morning. He ordered food for the two of us. That was the extent of it."

Hux paced, weighing her words, trying to decide if he believed her or not. She watched him cautiously; while he was not dangerous in the way Ren was, he was still powerful. He could reign destruction on her name should he have the mind to. She needed to remain on his good side.

"In his debrief, he told me that you defied orders from him," Hux said, stopping and staring her down. "Why don't you tell me about that?"

"He was in alone," she said. "I couldn't leave him in there to be executed. There were far too many guards – skilled, might I add – that he could possibly handle on his own. I told the troopers that ushered me out of there to go back in to help him. That was the only order I defied. It was enough to distract the guards so that he would no longer be overwhelmed."

Hux nodded slowly. "He did mention that he was impressed with the courage you showed to defy him," he said. "However, do not make it a habit. You know what he is capable of, and furthermore, any dissent in my ranks is not tolerated."

"I understand, General," she said. "I'm sorry to have to do this, but I have a meeting with Captain Phasma that I may be late to if I don't leave now. If I may take my leave?"

Hux glanced at the floor for a few seconds, and dismissed her with a wave of his hand. Immediately, she vacated his office, taking off for her quarters again. Hux knew that something had gone on, but he had no proof. Any accusation he tried to make was baseless. There was nothing he could draw on, not even security footage. Ren's safe house was not monitored. There was no way to know if Ren had spilled something to her. Both of them had tight lips on whatever had happened the previous night.

He changed the windows to be clear once again, and walked out of the office. His destination was the spot right next to the man on the bridge, overseeing the planet beneath them. Hux was not thrilled with having to confront Ren once again, but he needed an answer. Anything that either of them could give away would open up a weakness – something he may be able to exploit. He was always happy when something came to his attention that could knock Ren off his pedestal.

"Ren," Hux called sharply as he neared the black figure. Ren did nothing, as was expected. "Did you say anything to her? Anything at all?"

The dark sider clearly considered this to be a waste of his time as he straightened up. "If I had said anything, don't you think that Miss Vess would've jumped on the opportunity to do so?" he asked sarcastically. "I have said what I need to you, _General_."

"There is something going on, and I will find out," Hux warned.

"If there was something important, she would've spoken about it," Ren said. "She did not. That should tell you all you need to know, and prove your narrative false."

With that, Ren brushed by Hux, leaving the General to look out over the planet below them, trying to formulate a new plan. He would find out what had happened between the two of them at some point. If they were to grow sympathetic to each other at some point, to would spell his end. He needed to make sure that would not happen.


	13. Chapter 13

The lounge was understandably busy when Tamara walked in. Many of them were not wearing their standard uniforms, and the chattering was loud. Tamara scanned the room, searching for the Captain, and was surprised to see her with her armour gone, fully unmasked. Then again, they were in the senior officer's area and this was their lounge, so it wasn't out of the ordinary. If her stormtroopers were around, it would likely be a different story.

Tamra moved through the crowd, settling down in the lounge chair across from Phasma. "General Hux had to catch up with me, apologies for being late, Captain," she said as she adjusted herself in the chair.

"No worries," Phasma said, reaching for the uncorked bottle of wine that had been sitting on the table. "I was surprised he didn't come to you earlier."

"I was too," Tamara said, nodding her thanks as Phasma held it out to her. She took the bottle and poured herself a generous 8 ounce glass. "But I was expecting it, nothing that I was overly concerned about."

She set the bottle down on the table, and the Captain leaned on her elbows. "So, tell me about how well my troops performed," she said, her hand resting on the bottom of her own wine glass.

"Excellent," Tamara said. "They were very responsive, quick to act. I've never seen a unit more tight-knit than them. They all seemed to be in sync when they fought."

"But they weren't able to take out the target," Phasma responded somewhat disappointed. Tamara had figured that the Captain was a perfectionist.

"To be completely fair, it wasn't something they knew they were walking into," Tamara said. "Sure, we guessed she might be rather difficult to work with, but never did we expect her to try and lure us."

Phasma sat back in her chair, bringing her wine glass up to rest on her bottom lip. "True," she said, creasing her brow. "I'll have to ensure to focus on situational awareness. What else happened?"

Tamara paused. Did she want to tell Phasma that she went against Ren's orders? Would it get her a reprimand? While Phasma did not outrank Ren, he existed outside of the normal chain of command, and she seemed to hold more power than her title would suggest.

"They were fantastic listeners," Tamara said, finally settling on a good way to phrase her thought. "What they were told, they did."

"Most of that comes from the fact most of them fear Ren," Phasma said, setting her wine glass down again. "His methods are – brutal, to put it in fair terms."

"I'd agree with you," Tamara said, wanting to swing the conversation away from Ren. "Has there been any updates from my contacts?"

"Not that I've been made aware of," Phasma said. "I haven't been paying much attention. The stormtroopers are still waiting in their safe house for their orders should anything come up. I'm the one that issues orders should they need to mobilize."

"Makes sense," Tamara said. "All in all, I'm impressed with how they handled themselves. That situation was not an easy one."

"And you made it out relatively unscathed," Phasma commented.

"As well as I could've, really," Tamra said with a small smile. "I had good backup. I thought it might've been overkill at first, but that woman is dangerous; I see now why the General wanted me with someone capable."

"I don't know if I'd classify Ren as capable of protecting anyone other than himself," Phasma said. "You'll come to learn that as you continue to spend time around him."

"I don't doubt that," Tamara said. "But he did get me out of a situation where he could've easily pushed me away, but he didn't."

"If I may offer you a word of advice, don't get close to him. He's dangerous, and he'll burn you. I've worked with him for years – I know what he does and what he is like."

"I'm not close to him. I'm afraid of him if anything."

"I can tell something happened."

Tamara shifted in her seat. Phasma was sharp, but she wasn't about to let the captain win.

"He saved my life. I think that's a fair enough reason to be somewhat grateful."

* * *

Dinner had progressed slowly. Phasma walked with purpose to the bridge, her armour donned, irritated. No new information had surfaced, even though she could tell that Tamara was holding back. The woman did not have a good poker face, and her pauses in speech gave her away. Phasma was attentive enough to catch those subtle cues. Ren would not be pleased with the lack of information she had for him that night, but she was required to give him something if he were to honour their deal.

The bridge was not nearly as busy as it was during the daytime shifts, but there were still a fair amount of officers ensuring that the star destroyer kept sailing through the infinite darkness. Ren stood at one of the viewscreens, staring out into the abyss below. Phasma was not afraid of Ren, but she would be foolish if she wasn't cautious around him. He was unpredictable, and that made him dangerous. She kept her walk confident and her stride even as she approached him.

"Nothing new has surfaced, sir," she said, her voice slightly modulated through her helmet. Ren turned his head slightly – his signal that he was listening. "She is holding something back from me, but I have not been able to determine what it is. Give me more time, and I'll find it."

"You have time – what will wear thin is my patience," Ren warned. "You are dismissed; thank you for your report."

He knew threatening Phasma held no weight considering her position, but he was adamant that she stay beneath him. He needed something to hold over her head. However, what Phasma didn't know was that she had brought the exact message he wanted to hear. Tamara was keeping her mouth shut, which is what he needed. She had witnessed a side of him that very few people in the galaxy had ever seen. He cursed himself for being so foolish, but she seemed to be smart. If she was to damage his image, it would put her in grave danger, and she recognized that. There was a lot to respect about the analyst, even if she had a sharp whit. He was rarely challenged, especially by anyone other than Hux or even Phasma. They were the only two who would call him on his forced confidence, and more often than not, it was annoying. However, everyone that needed to fear him did. That was all he could ask for.

He tore himself away from the viewscreen, walking with purpose off the bridge. He needed to pay someone a visit.

* * *

Tamara sat in her suite, absent-mindedly staring at the HoloNet feed, a glass of wine her hand, her head in the other. As much as she tried to focus on anything else, she couldn't break her fixation on the previous night. It didn't help that she had to cover nearly everything from Phasma who had incessantly tried to poke holes in her story. The last thing Tamara needed was Ren on her case again. She hoped that he would stay away long enough for her to focus on her work for once. If everything fell into place, her contacts would have Jaymiya's location soon, and Ren would be out once again. She would take any time she could to be away from him. Even if he no longer scared her to the extent he did before, she would be wary, and that would always be the case. The fear would dull, but her cautiousness would always be there.

It came as no surprise to her when he door swiped up and the cloaked figure entered uninvited. She glanced over to him, hoping that he would stay where he was and she could remain on the couch, but he closed the distance between the two of them quickly. She stared up at him, annoyed more than afraid.

"Is something wrong, sir?" she asked.

"That depends what you're definition of 'wrong' is," he responded. Tamara set down her glass of wine and sat up to face him.

"I told Phasma nothing," she said. "The only people who know what happened are in this room."

"Good," Ren said. "Then those two people should know that last night meant nothing. Expect nothing to change."

"I'm sure they know," Tamara said.

There was a pause, and she glanced down at the floor. "I do have a question for you that I doubt you'll answer, but I'll ask it anyway," she said. "Will you ever give me a straight answer on what Hux wants from me?"

"If I told you, I'm sure you'd find it insulting to your problem-solving skills," he muttered, clearly unimpressed. "If you're so interested, why not just ask him yourself?"

"You know as well as I will that he won't give me a straight answer."

"The General works in strange ways, and even he will let something slip. You just need to be on your guard and ready to catch it."

Tamara nodded, having gained more from him than she expected. "Is that all, sir?" she asked.

Ren didn't need to answer her; he simply moved to the open doorway. "Good night, Miss Vess."

Tamara watched him leave, not caring as much as she might've a couple days ago. His two different personas with and without the mask really boiled down to the same thing – a flair for the dramatic. He wanted to make a point, and it no longer bothered her. She wouldn't say anything to anyone about that night, and she hoped Ren believed her. It was all she could do.

* * *

 **Apologies for the shorter chapter and long delay. It's been pretty rough for me recently. My childhood dog had to be put down on April 4th, and on April 6th, a junior hockey team was involved in a horrific crash, killing 16. 4 of those boys were from my area, and the athletic trainer had graduated from my university a few years ago. Additionally, exams and starting a new job took a lot out of me, but things have started to settle down quite a bit and I'll hopefully be able to carve out some time to write. Thanks for sticking with me and my weird update schedule!**


	14. Chapter 14

Ren was not in his usual spot on the bridge as Tamara scanned the scene while walking to her office. She vaguely remembered a conversation between herself and the General about Ren's schedule for the next month. He was out on missions in the field for the next few weeks. She was not about to complain. If anything, it was a welcome relief for her. The last thing she needed was Ren breathing down her neck, ensuring she remained quiet. There was no part of her that wanted to say anything – it would achieve nothing for her if she decided to rat out the First Order's favourite Force user. However, Ren was not trusting.

She stepped into her office to see a familiar red-haired man awaiting her.

"General," she acknowledged. "Is something wrong?"

Hux folded his arms in front of him, eyeing her. Tamara was not one to be intimidated by him, and she raised her chin. "Nothing is wrong, Miss Vess," he said. "I wanted to inform you that Ren will be away for a week on a mission, and that you will not have to worry about him."

"Good news, then," she said with a nod. "Thank you, General."

Hux tilted his head. "I would've thought you'd be more excited over this news," he said.

Tamara shrugged. "The man saved my life, I guess I'm grateful to some extent," she said.

"Miss Vess," Hux said, clearly irritated. "You're fabricating something."

Tamara glanced down and let out a breath. "I'm not fabricating anything, General, I'm simply leaving out the boring things," she responded. It was a risk to take, speaking to him in such a way, but it was one she was willing to take. Hux was predictable in some capacity, much more than Ren. He was much more levelheaded, not that it was a high threshold to cross. However, they way he stared her down made her feel some pang of regret.

"Boring things?" he questioned.

"We talked, General," Tamara said. "What do you want me to say?"

"Watch your tone, Miss Vess," he warned, approaching her in an attempt to intimidate her. She raised her chin higher. "You can deny it all you want, but it's obvious that something has happened. Your dynamic is different."

"If I may, why does it matter?" she asked, her voice unwavering.

"If I am to have any dissent in my ranks, I will be the first to know about it."

Tamara knew that she would have to say something. Her attempts to bluff her way through had proven to be unsuccessful, and now she needed to switch her approach quickly. Hux was not going to back down, not until she gave him something convincing.

"What do you think happened, General? You have an idea, do you not?"

"I have an idea," he admitted after a pause. "This might be one of the few times where I hope I'm incorrect."

"He took his mask off."

Hux blinked, processing her words. They were so simple, yet she could tell that they held weight. No one knew what Ren looked like under the mask. She didn't even know if Hux knew. Surely, the General would know Ren's true identity. However, she felt a need to protect Ren in case he didn't. He had warned her about Hux, and that he was not forthcoming. She didn't know how much weight to put on Ren's statements considering the two of them were going at each other's throats on a daily basis. He glanced down at her. "That was not my idea."

"I think I know what your idea was. I did not sleep with him. We had a couple drinks, but I slept on the couch. There was nothing that happened. It was a strange day to say the least, and I think we both needed to unwind. Does that sound boring to you, General?"

Her attitude was grating, but Hux couldn't fault her for being snappy at him. There would be more opportunities where he could go after her for disrespecting him, but this was not one that was particularly offensive to him. He had to pick his battles if he was going to win the longterm battle.

"In fact, it does," he said, and stepped away from her, allowing her access to her desk. "Carry on, Miss Vess."

He left her office, and she stood rooted to the spot, processing everything. Someone had raised suspicions on her. Surely it couldn't be Ren. He had a stake in this as well. She was careful with what she said, and she knew that it was dangerous to give out as much as she had. Anything that she did could be possible fuel if someone decided to lodge an attack against her. They could throw her own words back at her. If the General was planning on doing that, she needed to tread carefully. Ren was violent, but Hux was calculating. His game was longterm. However, she knew how to play his game. Whether or not he could beat him was another aspect altogether, but she needed to figure out his angle first. If Ren was right and there was something else from her that Hux wanted, her window was closing. She needed to find out his endgame plans, and she needed to do it fast.

Slowly, Tamara walked to her desk and settled down in her chair, staring out at the bridge. Ren's spot was vacant, and she hoped that it would stay that way. Even if the two of them had a slightly less tumultuous relationship now, her wariness would never disappear. Not having the threat of being watched by a man whose temper swung at a moment's notice was much more relaxing. She could focus on other things, such as figuring out what exactly she needed to do to stay ahead. Her productivity would suffer for it, but she knew that if she was going to have any chance at finding out what the future might have in store for her, she needed to start now.

* * *

Tamara's contacts had proved to be valuable. Jaymiya could not stay hidden for long with the many eyes they had out for her, and she had been intercepted as she had attempted to flee the planet, under the impression that the First Order had left. However, she failed to realize the reach the First Order had. It had been far too easy for Ren and Phasma to trail her. The stormtrooper unit was dispatching her troops, making short work of them. They were prepared this time, no mistakes. Ren waited in his command shuttle, ready to stride out when the time would come.

The sound of Phasma's armour clunking as she walked up the ramp to his shuttle snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Her forces don't stand a chance, they will be down momentarily, sir," she said.

"Excellent," Ren said. "Miss Vess finally proved her worth. I will be down there shortly – ensure no mistakes. Whatever she has planned ends here."

"Yessir," Phasma said, and turned once again to command her own troops. Once again alone, Ren found his thoughts trailing back to the woman he had shown his face to just days before. Something about her stuck with him, and he couldn't shake the sentiment that was starting to muster for her. Perhaps it was just because she recognized him. While he wanted to destroy that part of his life more than anything, threads of it still clung to him, unwilling to release. A tiny, dormant part of him wondered what would've happened if he had not turned. The First Order had been on the rise long before he rose to power, but would it be as fierce? Hux had no teeth. Phasma was only one in a line of commanding officers, and she could be replaced by any stormtrooper ready to prove his or her worth. If he had not turned, would he be happier?

Those thoughts had been buried over the last six years He had fought to keep them at bay, out of sight from anyone who might seek to exploit him. However, Tamara Vess was an enigma. Rank-wise, she was nothing to him, just another one of Hux's pets that he did not concern himself with. He needed to destroy the sentiment in his heart. He could not show any weakness. Everyone was watching for one.

He glanced up as the commotion outside settled, taking his cue. He let out a slow breath, allowing his persona to take over. All sentiment was gone. Instead, it was replaced with rage, directed at the woman who had attempted to assassinate him and a fellow officer.

Confidently, he strode out of his ship, two stormtrooper officers standing on either side of the lowered ramp. Twenty feet away, Jaymiya stood, staring him down with the same defiant glint in her eye he had witnessed right before her troops had opened fire on them in her previous base of operations. Her face was bloodied and her pristine presentation was damaged through the rips in her cloak. She had fought as hard as she could, but had been overwhelmed in the end. Her troops lay scattered around her, the remains of her hideout broken and smoking. However, she was not afraid. She had already accepted her fate. When she had seen the First Order ships come into view, she knew her time was over. Ren would be with them, and he was not going to leave her alive. How they had found her, she had no idea. She had tried her damndest to keep her operation under wraps. Whoever it was that blabbed was likely dead now. It didn't matter. While her time was drawing to a close, she knew that she had inflicted her own damage, some of which had yet to be realized. Ren approached her, his long legs taking shorter and shorter steps in an almost casual way. He was toying with her.

"What you pulled off is something the First Order does not take kindly to," he warned, stopping in front of her.

She smirked, nodding her head. "If you're expecting some sort of apology or a beg for mercy, you're wasting your time," she snapped back. "I'm not just going to roll over because you decided to show up."

Ren clenched his fists. Her attitude had grated him the entire meeting days ago, and it hadn't changed. She was going to fight him right to the bitter end. In a sense there was something admirable about it. However, all respect had been lost when she had given the orders to have a blaster fired at him. "How easy you make this decision for me," he said sarcastically. "I really appreciate it. For someone who tried to kill me and a senior officer, I expected more of a fight."

"You have a fight," she said. "But I'm not the one you need to worry about. There are others, just like me, who vow to bring you and your government down. You will never rule us. Godspeed, rebels!"

Jaymiya knew what was coming, but the last cry of the Resistance escaped her lips. Ren's lightsaber flew into his palm, igniting just as fast, and came down across her as the last of the chant echoed around them. Her body fell to the ground, lifeless. However, her point was made. Even in death, her glassy eyes held that defiant look about them. Ren retracted the crackling red blade and looked over to Phasma.

"Burn the rest of this place, destroy the ships," he commanded. "Leave no trace of her."

Without waiting for a response, he stormed back to his shuttle, ready to go back to the Finalizer. His fingers inched to destroy something more. He could feel himself getting more and more powerful, but the energy was wasted unless he could use it somewhere. He was not foolish enough to destroy his ship. An empty room somewhere in the Finalizer corridors would likely receive the brunt of his coming assault.


	15. Chapter 15

Of all the responsibilities the General had in the First Order, one of his least favourite activities was having to provide Snoke with updates on the various events that happened on the Finalizer. While he normally would take the transmissions in his quarters, he had elected to go to a small chamber that was frequently used by Ren to contact the Supreme Leader. However, Hux was feeling much looser with the elimination of Jaymiya, and didn't feel like he needed to keep everything so close to his chest. He stood with his hand clasped behind his back, waiting.

"Jaymiya Stojewe has been taken care of, Supreme Leader," he spoke as the hologram of the humanoid materialized. It was just Snoke's head, but the way it was enlarged was still enough to be intimidating. The disfiguration spoke to the hundreds of years he'd been alive for, and the way his mouth was always turned into a scowl further intensified his power.

"She has been taken care of, I presume?" Snoke asked.

"Kylo Ren and Captain Phasma finished the job today," Hux confirmed. "She was a Resistance sympathizer."

"Another good First Order prospect, wasted," Snoke said. "However, that is not the pressing issue."

Hux blinked, slightly taken aback. Surely, the defeat of a Resistance member would be news enough for the Supreme Leader. "What is this issue?" he asked.

"Clearly, you do not have such control over the happenings of your ship if you do not know, General," Snoke scolded. "Your newest hire has been distracting my apprentice."

"Officer Vess?" Hux asked. "Ren does not interact with her on a regular basis. He was only with her during one mission."

"How much time they have spent together in the past is irrelevant," Snoke said, dismissing Hux's comments. "What remains is the mark she's left on him. There is a sentiment he holds for her, and it weakens him. If she is to spend more time around him, she too will need to be taken care of."

"Supreme Leader, I don't think that's wise, considering what she's done for us," Hux said.

"And why is that, _General_?" Snoke sneered. Hux winced, knowing that he had reached the limit of Snoke's patience.

"Her contacts on Coruscant were what sought out Stojewe," Hux explained. "She has valuable intel and her contacts are in high places, most of whom are part of the Coruscanti elite. If we have those people as our eyes, there is less of a need for our troops to go there and monitor. They can infiltrate the political system of the planet, and turn it over to us with little resistance."

Snoke paused for a moment, considering Hux's argument. "What is your timeline for her?" he asked.

"As of right now, she's behind," he said. "Losing those days to the mission set us back."

"Remember the last time one of your pets ran loose with Ren," Snoke warned. Hux glanced down as the memories resurfaced. He had taken time to bury them, but Snoke knew exactly what to do to bring them back up to the surface.

"Yes, Supreme Leader," Hux said. "She is still to valuable and we have invested too much to simply axe her now because Ren has some sort of positive emotion toward her."

"Then transfer her," Snoke said, his mind already made up. "If you cannot contain Ren, and I know you cannot, she must be moved from him. You know as well as I that any emotional compromise is detrimental to the Order."

"I'm hesitant to transfer her," Hux said, treading lightly. Snoke was already annoyed, and Hux knew he was on thin ice. "You and I both know how volatile Ren is. His emotions play to our advantage in some cases, but there is no guarantee he will simply stop fixating on her."

"I do not want a repeat of the last time," Snoke said. "Do not forget, it was you who cased significant damage we are just now recovering from. Ren will fixate his emotion to anything he deems weaker than him, and he thinks this way with her."

"That is a good thing for the Order; she will stay in line."

"But for our longterm health, it is less than ideal, General. He cannot be sentimental toward her."

Hux nodded. "I understand. Is there a certain place you want her stationed?"

"There is a corvette in one of the Finalizer's hangars, is there not? A small crew will occupy her, and she can work independently. Furthermore, if Ren has something else to focus on, he should not be concerned with her. Now go, make sure it happens quickly – time is of the essence."

"Yes, Supreme Leader."

With that, Hux turned on his heel and swiftly left the chamber. He had learned to keep his emotions in check while speaking to Snoke, but he couldn't help but feel angered at the command. If what Snoke had said was true, and Ren was visiting her outside of working hours, he could throw off the timeline that was set for her. Hux wanted to keep Tamara around to keep suspicions down and, to a certain extent, have control over Ren. However, he couldn't go against what Snoke wanted. He pulled his greatcoat around tighter around his shoulders, guarding himself as best he could from the chill in the room.

He stepped out of the chamber, still lost in his own head. He wasn't even aware of Ren's towering figure until he was mere inches away. Having realized his proximity to his rival, he jumped back.

"Stars, Ren," he muttered. "Do you have an update for me?"

"No," he said. "Only what you already know. Her hideout has been torched and she confirmed her Resistance ties. Now, if you'll excuse me, General, I must talk to the Supreme Leader."

He brushed by Hux, and the General let out a frustrated sigh. Any interactions with Ren were off-putting, but there was something about him that had changed recently. His volatile emotions had become even more unpredictable. He glanced once over his shoulder before he walked away.

* * *

Snoke's hologram did not fade, and was awaiting Ren impatiently. The tall figured stalked into the room, and any sense of peace and calmness left as he approached.

"She hailed the Resistance," Ren said. "Just as we had feared previously."

"She won't be the last one," Snoke said. "We cannot change what has happened. However, we do not know what information was relayed back to the Resistance."

"There was nothing she could've taken from us," Ren said, trying to muffle the oncoming explosion should he not choose his words carefully. "She did not know enough about us for her to scrape together anything that would resemble intel."

"You do not know that for sure," Snoke snapped, and Ren flinched behind his mask. "Do you know why I called you here, Ren?"

"To give you an update on the mission, Sup—"

"No," Snoke barked, cutting him off. "It has clouded your feelings. The new senior officer, Vess' child, she has taken hold of you."

Ren held back a snort. "My thoughts are clear – she means nothing to me but another one of Hux's pets."

"Is that why you've been visiting her in the night?"

"Nothing has happened." Ren knew he needed to backtrack quickly. It was possible that Hux had blabbed to Snoke in order to gain favour. The real question was, how much did he know?

"Sentiment leads to weakness, Ren. You must quell it else your power will weaken."

"There is no sentiment. Officer Vess knows to keep her distance. I wanted to send her a message when she first came here, that she should fear me. She does. There is nothing more to my feelings toward her than that. To me, she is just another face on this ship."

"Do you truly believe your own words?"

"Of course."

Snoke leaned back in his throne, mulling over Ren's words. "Figure this out, Ren. I can sense what you feel – do not forget that."

With that, the transmission was cut and the room was plunged into near darkness. Ren started down at the floor of the chamber, his emotions threatening to boil over. The truth was that there was something brewing, and Tamara was in the centre of it all. He didn't know what he felt, and it both scared and angered him. She was nothing, just one in a long line of officers that had come before and would come after. There was nothing remarkable about her. Sure, she was part of the Coruscanti elite, but so were many. She was the daughter of an ex-Imperial, just like so many others. He turned and left the chamber, the anger and fear competing within him. Something had to give at some point.

Why had he shown her his face? She was one of the few that he had been so vulnerable to, and one of the fewer still that had recognized him from his previous life. When she had spoken the name, the same one that had been forbidden years ago, it had terrified him. It put her in a group of her own. Hux knew his previous name and where he had come from, but there were boundaries that even bitter rivals won't cross. Maybe Tamara had been ignorant of the decree that his name was to never be spoken again, or maybe she knew exactly what she was doing. A woman that had seemed so simple to understand mere weeks ago was now an enigma to him. His lack of understanding was what truly terrified him.

As he stormed through the hallways, his fists clenched tight enough to make the leather of his gloves creak, stormtroopers and officers parted for him. They knew to not cross him in times like this, and for that he was grateful. No one needed to get in his way, and if they did, they would face the dire consequence that awaited. He needed to get his power out. The only question that remain was what poor room was going to take the destruction.

He cut across the corridor harshly, his hand already on his lightsaber. With a swift movement of his arm, the blade was ignited and he slashed at the walls. Sparks flew everywhere, singing the already-frayed edges of his cowl and robes, but he didn't care. Destroying something was the only way to soothe his constant conflict. The source always varied, but this time, the source would not leave. She was stuck on the ship with him. He slashed again as thoughts flooded his mind that he would never been free of her. The walls sparked, the metal screaming from the sudden abuse, but he didn't care. He needed relief. There was no other way to gain it. A single room could be repaired. It was a sick form of therapy, one that left nothing but annihilation in its path. It was a distraction when he had no other.

As it always did, exhaustion took hold of him and the slashes slowed until they ceased to exist. The room had been reduced to a sparking, smouldering mess, the walls bearing the permanent wounds he had inflicted. It was not the first time, and it would not be the last. As long as his heart fought against itself, there would always be another room, or another battle to march into, his fingers itching to destroy. His breathing began to steady, and he retracted the blade, his shoulders dropping slowly. He would deal with Hux's annoying scolding later, but for now, his thoughts were clearing. The bout was over. All that was left was a room that barely resembled its original state, but he didn't care. The strange, therapeutic feeling it gave him once it was over was what he chased, and he could only revel in it for so long until the next emotional storm began to brew. It was why he was so powerful. He turned the lightsaber in his hands before securing it back to his belt. He didn't bother to look at the damage he'd done. While it was not a long-term fix, the conflict had been sedated, for now.


	16. Chapter 16

The riots on Coruscant had not ceased, or even subsided at all. They all remained, protesting the First Order in the name of the New Republic. Tamara could only watch. She knew that her university friends were there. There had been times when they had talked politics. She had always kept her beliefs close. It was not public knowledge that her father was an ex-Imperial, and she wanted it to remain that way. When the First Order had first started cropping up, they had all brushed it off as a minor threat, one that the New Republic would destroy with ease in the coming years. Now it had its own territory, and the Cold War had started. Their friend group was no doubt split, and she had a feeling she was one of the few on the side of the Order. There was little doubt in her mind that some of them would be there now, demanding action against the First Order.

She knew that she couldn't allow her emotions or personal connections influence her work. Tamara knew that she was there do do her job, and not anything else. She didn't want to be the one working on the Coruscant riots, but they were important in the grand scheme of the war. Whoever had Coruscant had the galaxy, no matter what the New Republic tried to push. Hosnian Prime might be their capital, but Coruscant was the planet that controlled it all. There were very few troops that were stationed there, only available in small pockets, and she was ensuring that they remained at ease. Until the New Republic was weakened, it would be suicide to try and suppress the riots on their own.

"Miss Vess." An unfamiliar male voice rang throughout her office. She glanced up from the console. In front of her was a young lieutenant, not much older than herself. He wasn't exactly someone who screamed confidence, but she decided to hear him out. She sat back in her chair, gesturing to him.

"General Hux has a new mission for you," the lieutenant said. "It requires somewhat of a brief from me."

Tamara nodded. "And what's your name, lieutenant?"

"Mitaka," he responded. "Lieutenant, as you've already figured out."

She smiled at him. He seemed to gain confidence as he spoke. "General Hux was informed that you have had dealings with a certain group in the past."

"I've dealt with many groups, so has my father," she said. "I'll need more than what you're giving me."

"Their official name is the Guavian Death Gang," he said. Tamara rolled her eyes.

"A group my father has dealt with in the past, not myself."

"That isn't particularly concerning. You have Everett's last name – it carries weight with groups such as them."

"What does the General want from this?"

"A meeting – negotiations, to be more specific. The First Order needs funds from somewhere."

"This is not the type of group you want to deal with in terms of loyalty."

Mitaka shrugged. "General Hux is the one you want to take that up with, not me."

Tamara sat forward in her chair, placing her elbow on her desk and rubbing her fingers together in thought. "Why does my name carry more weight than the General's?" she asked after a pause.

"Your father has been around since the Empire. He's seen the fall and the rise of the Imperials and the First Order, a veteran of political discourse, if you will. While you and I know the power of the First Order, it is still relatively new and unpredictable in the eyes of other groups. If there is an existing connection, it makes the process much easier."

"Does the General have a way of contacting the group?"

"He does."

Tamara considered it for a moment. She wasn't afraid of the group by any means – they knew that Everett was powerful in his own way. However, it seemed rather out of character to turn to a gang for funds as opposed to ex-Imperials such as her father. It wasn't really her decision to make, but she could hold her own opinions. To her, it seemed like more of an order rather than a request, especially coming from the General, and she knew that it would be in her best interests to remain on his good side.

"Alright," she said. "I'll do it."

"Excellent," Mitaka said. "The General will be in contact with you shortly."

The lieutenant seemed much more confident than he was when he first walked into her office. His jaw was relaxed and his shoulders weren't strained as he tried to hold formation. However, sensing that she was watching him, he immediately defaulted back to the First Order standard.

"You can relax, Lieutenant," she said. "I'm not the one you need to be afraid of."

Mitaka smiled, returning back to that relaxed stance. "I hear that a lot, Miss Vess," he said.

She waved her hand in a dismissive fashion. "No need for the formalities here," she said. "Call me Tamara if you would."

Mitaka nodded. "Dopheld," he said, clicking his boots together. "The General wasn't be sarcastic when he said you were different from the other senior officers."

"He brought me in because I could offer him something different," she said.

Tamara's com link suddenly started beeping, and she reached over to pick it up. "Officer Vess," she said. Another female voice came through on the other end.

"Officer Vess, we need you to the bridge's briefing room as soon as possible to discuss a new mission for you," Phasma spoke clearly and with authority, as usual.

"I'll be there shortly, Captain, thank you," Tamara said, setting the comm down on her desk before glancing up at Mitaka again. "I guess that's my cue to leave."

Mitaka bowed his head slightly as she stood. "It was a pleasure meeting you," he said.

She smiled at him as she picked up her greatcoat. "I'm sure we'll have many meetings in the future," she said. "Just keep your head high. You seen to know what you're doing around these parts."

"I appreciate it," he said as she moved by him. "Good luck, Tamara."

* * *

The briefing room on the bridge was not far from Tamara's office, and she arrived in due time, just as she promised. So far, the gathering was small, and filled with faces she didn't recognize. The gleam of Phasma's amour on the walls was an obvious giveaway as she walked into the room, and the multiple stormtrooper officers that stood along the edges of the room, their blasters held tight to their chests. They saluted her as she walked in, and she gave them a curt nod of acknowledgement. There were petty offers she had never met before, but nonetheless scanned them quickly before walking to the large round table situated in the middle of the room. Phasma stepped forward as the senior officer stopped in front of it, setting her hands down on the edges.

"Lieutenant Mitaka briefed you on this mission, I take it?" Phasma asked, getting straight to the point.

"He asked me if I would be the one to make the connection, yes," Tamara answered. "As for other details, he didn't say much else."

Even though she wanted to know why exactly they were targeting the Death Gang specifically, she knew that it was not the time nor the place to ask such a thing. Even then, the likelihood of Phasma knowing something was slim. The General liked to keep his missions close, it seemed.

"Good," Plasma said. "The First Order is in need of financial support to expand our forces, as I'm sure you're aware how thin our fleet is currently spread. We have many ex-Imperials willing to do such a thing, but they cannot offer us things such as extended surveillance, something that these rogue groups can. General Hux is fairly sure that it would be possible to swindle them into loaning funds as well. They know your last name, it would helps immensely should you be able to close an agreement with them."

Tamara crossed her arms across her chest and glanced down at the table, thinking.

"I need to ensure I am going to have backup in this mission," she said after a moment's pause. "More than I had on Coruscant. If that was just one person, imagine the reach the gang has. They don't know me like they know my father; I doubt they know that I even exist."

"Your last name is all we need," Phasma said. "I think you'd be surprised if you knew the reach and influence you father has had on these circles. Going back to your point about backup, both the General and myself are working to gather a skilled team to ensure if something goes wrong again, you will be escorted out quickly and away from danger."

"So long as you don't compromise your position again," a familiar robotic voice echoed through the room. Tamara shut her eyes and dropped her head, feeling the tension in the room elevate as the dark sider stormed in. "No more acts of heroism if I am to be part of this mission."

"I'm a far cry away from help, coming from someone who helped save your life," she responded, refusing to look at him. While she knew she was playing with fire by testing him, she had a good sense of her limits with him. She had the advantage over many others in that she knew exactly who he was, what he had been in his previous life. Ren brushed passed her and she glanced over at him with a sharp stare.

"You believe what you want to, Miss Vess," he said, stopping at an empty part of the room, away from the petty officers and the stormtroopers. The troopers had the luxury of having their expressions hidden, but the others did not. Their fear was evident in their eyes.

"Settle your bickering, Ren," another male voice spoke clearly and confidently from behind her. Tamara bit the inside of her cheek to hide a smirk. If there was to be one thing consistent over her time on the Finalizer so far, it was that Hux and Ren remained at each other's throats. It was a fact that would likely never change.

"It was my idea to use Miss Vess as an option on this mission," the General continued. "While she may not be a fighter, she can handle things diplomatically, something you seem to take exception to."

"There are times when diplomacy is not the way to get things done," Ren said, clearly annoyed. His attitude reflected her own, as she was not too happy upon learning that he would likely be accompanying her again. While she wasn't as afraid of him as she used to be, she was far from trust and even tolerance. Someone who relied almost exclusively on his violent tendencies and emotions was not once she wanted to put her faith into.

Hux stared him down, one of the few people in the room that would not fall for the Force user's intimidation tactic. "We do not know much about this gang, and an element of danger comes with it," the General said sharply. "In case it is required, we are sending additional backup."

"You can inform me of all the decisions tomorrow," Ren said. "I have other matters to attend to."

When he was fully out of the room, the tension in the air relaxed considerably. Tamara was confused at his brief appearance, but didn't dwell on it for too long. She wanted to ensure that the time she spent in his presence was minimal.

Hux took command of the meeting right then. "We are in need of forces to spread across the galaxy in an attempt to undermine the power of the New Republic," he began. "As I'm sure you are all aware, our current stormtrooper fleet is still expanding, but not at a pace that is sustainable. Our squadrons as of right now are spread thin across the galaxy to suppress uprisings. That is why we are looking to enlist the help of outside organizations."

He tapped on a flat pad that was positioned on the table. A rotating hologram of an unknown planet began to rotate, and a red dot was positioned near its northern pole.

"This is an unnamed planet in the Outer Rim," Hux explained. "It's also one of the multiple bases of operations for this gang. I have it on good authority that they will be on this planet in two days when we make our planned arrival."

The hologram zoomed in on the highlighted space and flattened out into a rough visual description of the surface.

"Miss Vess will be the one to do a majority of the talking, but as we know, these groups are unpredictable. Everyone on the ground must be in constant communication with each other, including those of us on the bridge. Should all go well, I don't expect this negotiation to take long, and should pass relatively uneventfully. Am I clear?"

"Yes, General," the unanimous chant echoed from around the room.

"Good, you are all dismissed."

Phasma led the stormtroopers out of the room first, and Tamra just watched, not interested in racing the door to leave. In fact, she wanted to do just the opposite. The mission had her wary, and she wanted to be fully clear on it with Hux before she ran down onto the planet's surface. She stared at the rotating hologram, lost in thought. Her interaction with the group only went as far as knowing who they were. Now, she was expected to close a massive deal that could easily alter the timeline of the war.

"Miss Vess," Hux's voice snapped, and she blinked, coming back to her own mind. She glanced up and him, letting her arms fall down around her sides once more.

"I have some questions about this mission, General," she said. The look on Hux's face showed that he was not interested, but he expected it. He gestured to have her speak.

"Other than my last name, why place me back on a mission after what happened with Jaymiya?" she asked. "I know there's another reason. I'm not a negotiator. I'm not someone who understands diplomacy any more than some of the other officers here."

Hux straightened the lapels on his greatcoat. "I wouldn't put you on a mission if I knew you weren't ready for it," he said. "You will have backup; I do not expect any issues to crop up like they did the last time."

She couldn't outright say that she didn't believe him, but her body language could communicate it easily. She folded her arms across her chest again, leaning her shoulders back and glancing up at him. He could've just ignored her and left the room as he'd done on many other occasions, but he figured that he owed it to her.

"I met with the Supreme Leader yesterday, and his first impressions weren't glowing," Hux said. "To me, it seems as though you need another chance to prove your worth to the First Order, so I'm giving you a mission that is near-impossible to fail. You're a sharp woman – I'm confident that you will handle this easily."

Tamara nodded. "Fair enough," she said. "Thank you."

Hux immediately took her acknowledgement as a cue to leave, and she was left standing in the briefing room alone. It didn't seem as though she'd been around for long enough for the Supreme Leader to make a judgement call on her, as she had realistically only been a member for a week. It hardly seemed fair, but she was not there to question. At far as she was aware, all she could do was follow the orders given to her.

* * *

 **Just want to apologize once again for the lack of updates over the months. Been dealing with a lot of outside stresses and just couldn't get this whole writing thing down for a while. But, I hope to resume my schedule of once every two weeks, maybe even once a week depending on how everything plays out. Thanks for sticking with me through my erratic schedule, I really appreciate it!**


	17. Chapter 17

The stress that had built up over the weeks was unwelcome. Tamara often found herself waking up for too early for her shift, tossing until she needed to start getting ready. For once, she would love to sleep until her alarm, free from the nerves for just a few hours more. Her reliance on caf was easily recognizable, and it was starting to lose the efficacy it once had. It wasn't so much that it was the possibility of Ren gracing her with his presence again that wired her, but rather the stress of her missions, knowing that she was underperforming. It hung over her, a weight she was forced to bear on her shoulders, and it was starting to wear her down. If it was any indication, she was not going to be cut out for the First Order. Perhaps all those years of grooming and study were all for nothing.

Today was a much different day. She knew exactly why she was awake early. Instead of her usual groggy state, she somehow felt wide awake. All she had going through her head was the mission she was slated for the next day. It wasn't so much that she was worried about the mission itself – if they'd learned anything from her first mission in the field, more backup would be sent – but rather who she was going with. While she was not as wary of Ren since they'd broken the barriers of his true identity back on Coruscant, it didn't change the fact that he was emotionally volatile by design. If she overstepped her boundaries, there would be consequences. She still didn't know where those boundaries were, and that in and of itself was enough to plague her at night.

Deciding that it was no good staying in bed, Tamara turned over and glanced down at her datapad. Four fifteen. She still had around two hours until her shift officially started. Yet here she was, wide awake, ready to get going immediately. She knew one thing for sure – she wasn't about to stay in her suite for those hours. She once, she craved being around other humans, and she knew exactly where to find them.

* * *

The lounge area of the Finalizer was quiet in the early morning, to the surprise of no one. There were a handful of ranked officials enjoying their caf, waiting for their shift to start much like most of the ship.

Tamara was no exception. She stepped into the lounge, glancing around for any familiar face. Most of the officers were dispersed around the room, not saying much to each other. She didn't blame them. The life they lived was a secluded and nomadic one, sheltered from the outside galaxy. Some were aware of this, some were not. She didn't really care what anyone else thought – she only worried about herself. It seemed now that her position could possibly in jeopardy, and was determined to not let anyone else close to her.

However, her sentiment seemed to go out the door when she recognized a face sitting at the bar. The young lieutenant that had brought her the mission the previous day was sitting solo at the bar with his breakfast, and seemed to be lost in thought. He stared straight ahead, not noticing nor caring about anything else around him. Even though the lounge was quiet, everyone seemed intent on being as invisible as possible.

Tamara set her pride aside and walked over to Mitaka, who glanced up as she approached.

"Miss Vess," he acknowledged.

She gave him a small grin. "Tamara, please," she said.

Mitaka glanced down to the stool next to him. "If you'd like to join me…" he began.

"If you don't mind," she said.

"Not at all," he said, nodding to the open space. Tamara pushed herself up onto the stool and rested her arms on the polished surface of the bar. He seemed to keep his gaze fixated on his plate, not daring to look up at her.

"Is fraternizing with your co-workers an act that's looked down upon here?" she asked, her tone only half serious.

Mitaka laughed. "I'm sure you could call it that," he said. "No, it's not necessarily looked down on, but if it cuts into your productivity, you can be reprimanded for it."

Tamara thought of the many hours of sleep she'd lost because Ren had felt it necessary to make his presence known. She hadn't seen him yet that day, and hoped to keep it that way.

"I don't think that's really the main threat here," she said in a hushed voice. "There are other things to be focused on rather than how well one works."

"You can be the one to tell that to the General," Mitaka said, pushing his plate away. "Are you not going to order breakfast? Your shift is long – you'll need something to get you through the day."

Tamara glanced over at him, then at the man who stood behind the bar. He seemed to be making himself appear small.

"Whatever Lieutenant Mitaka had, I'll have the same," she called to him. The man nodded in affirmation and scurried off behind the massive shelves of alcohol bottles. She glanced down at her hands, running her fingers along her knuckles. "I didn't think I was that intimidating," she said in reference to the bartender's behaviour.

"It's your rank," Mitaka said. "Senior officers don't come to this place very often; they prefer to stay in their own suites for their food and drink and just have it brought to them."

"I don't exactly blame them," she said. She didn't want to mention why she didn't want to stay in her suite. The negativity in that room was festering with each day, knowing that Ren could invite himself in at anytime. It was unnerving, and it was finally starting to get to her. Whether or not she believed he would use that power against her remained to be seen.

"What has you up so early in the first place?" he asked. "I feel like officers such as yourself would want as much time as possible."

She paused before she answered him. "I couldn't sleep," she said. "Figured I'd come down here to have breakfast with some of the others for a change."

Thankfully, Mitaka didn't pry any further. Even though she could very easily deflect any of his questions due to her rank, she didn't always want to do so. After all, her position was not one that warranted much respect from the other senior officers that had seen battle and had earned each and every one of their ranks. An officer that had been out on the battlefield and offered expertise in that area held much more respect than an officer such as herself that was focused mostly on how to stop the rioting and get more of the galaxy on the side of the First Order.

The man returned from behind the bar and set a plate down in front of her. She glanced down at the food, thankful that it was something different than her usual porridge. It was a standard meal – eggs and toast. The lieutenant sitting next to her definitely stayed as close as possible to normalcy as he could.

She gave the bartender a nod of thanks before settling back in the bar stool. "Other than giving me a mission to try and extract funds from a gang, what else does your job entail?" she asked, looking over at Mitaka.

"As much as I'd like to say I have a powerful role, I don't," he said. "I'm mostly that – a message boy for the higher-ups. I graduated top of my class at the Academy, so I was able to gain this position through that. Seems prestigious, but when every one else on this ship is like myself – top honours or close to at the Academy, suddenly, none of us are special. However, I take orders directly from Hux, unlike the other lieutenants, so you could say that's a bit different in terms of my role here."

"Seems to be a common theme," Tamara said.

"In what way?"

"Well, Captain Phasma definitely has more power than her rank would suggest."

Mitaka nodded in agreement. "I'll give you that one," he said. Tamara picked up the silverware that had been set next to the plate and toyed with the eggs before she began to eat them.

"What about yourself? How did you manage to charm the General so quickly?"

Tamara set her fork down, not sure if she really wanted to answer the question. "My father was friends with Brendol," she began. "I grew up with the thought of always working for the First Order one day – it was instilled in me early on. I studied for years, trying to fill a void, one where the First Order was not even aware of. That became my position – someone who could figure out just how to get as many people sympathetic to the First Order's cause, and though that, I strengthen the forces. If they don't have to control riots, then they can be out fighting for the Supreme Leader."

"Seems like you have this entire thing relatively figured out," Mitaka said. "It's impressive."

"I had to be impressive if I was going to be given a job with this much power with how young I am," she said.

"You'd be surprised just how young this entire Order is," he commented. "I may be out of order saying this, but I think that many of the higher ups recognized the failures of the Empire and are looking to rectify it, and to do that, there needs to be a generation who didn't live through or remember the time of the Empire."

Tamara wanted nothing more than to make a comment about Ren, but she knew that his true identity was likely a secret from the majority of the First Order. While he never lived through the reign of the Empire, his bloodline was strongly attached to the Light side, the resistance, the that denounced the Empire at all costs. There was a part of her that wondered how he was pushed so far into the dark when his parents were war heroes and critical in the fall of the Empire.

"Hopefully we can make the First Order stand for longer than the Empire did," she said.

"If I had a drink, I'd toast to that," Mitaka said with a smile, glancing over his shoulder at the massive clock that displayed the time. "But I think it's a bit early for that."

"Maybe just a touch," Tamara said with a grin as she continued to eat her breakfast. She liked this lieutenant, especially when he was much more relaxed and not so focused on respecting the strict regulations that the Order had instilled in him. It was easy to see that he'd come up through the ranks of the Academy. The way he carried himself was always proper, but it was a byproduct of fear rather than confidence. Perhaps that's why he was designated to a position that didn't seem to contribute much. Whatever the case, Tamara was not in a position to question it out loud.

She finished her breakfast and glanced up at the clock. It was starting to get close to the beginning of her shift, and she hoped that it passed without issue. It seemed to be a rare occasion when she wasn't disturbed in her work.

"I best get going," Mitaka said, breaking their silence and hopped down off the stool. "General Hux will likely want to brief all of us before the day starts."

"Wonderful talking to you," she said with a nod.

"The pleasure is all mine, Tamara," he said before he strode out of the lounge. Tamara turned back to face the bar again, resting her elbows on the counter and leaning forward, bowing her head. Maybe there were people in this Order who she could realistically relate to.

* * *

Ren had made himself scarce during the day, but unfortunately, Tamara's string of good luck would end there. She arrived to her quarters seeing that the second door was already open, and she braced herself. It was no secret who had opened it.

"Is there something you need to talk to me about?" she called out as she walked into the suite. Ren had his back to her, and she saw his head turn. The overhead lights glinted off the silver lines of the mask, highlighting the dents and scratches along the black surface.

"That's no way to talk to your superiors, Miss Vess," he said.

"As far as I'm aware, you're in my chambers," she said. "Most superiors don't stalk in the shadows, waiting for their subordinates to return."

She knew that she was very close to completely setting him off, but she didn't really care. The pent up feelings she had toward him were starting to break through onto the surface. The loss of sleep, the constant invasion of her space, it was all festering into this battle, one she wasn't sure she wanted to pick.

"My status overrides yours, Miss Vess," he said, anger starting to creep into his modulated voice. "I'm surprised you haven't learned that by now."

"You think too highly of yourself," she spat. "Not surprising considering your mother did as well."

That was the comment that made something in the Force user snap. He turned and shot his hand out toward her. Tamara felt her feet skid along the floor before her neck was seized by his outstretched hand. Her own hands immediately clawed at his arms. She could still breathe, but the panic and shock that travelled all though her body were making it increasingly difficult to do so.

"You have some nerve making comments about my heritage," he snapped before tossing her down to the floor. She coughed as he strode by her, and she quickly turned her head to get a view of him. This was not the first time he'd used his powers against her, but it sent the same message nonetheless – he was a figure that was not to be taken lightly, and he would threaten anyone, no matter their allegiance.

"What do you want from me?" she finally managed to sputter out, pushing herself up to her knees.

"You are no longer in a position to ask me questions," he said, his tone sharp as he approached her again. She scrambled, trying to get a foothold on the floor, but she was unable to before her entire body froze once more. She quickly glanced down at his lightsaber, hooked onto his belt, and there was not a doubt in her mind that he was itching to use it. "You would be smart to heed my warnings."

"Ren!" Tamara felt the hold on her body disappear as the General's voice echoed around the room. Ren knew his time of enforcement had passed.

"Your most recent hire needs to learn manners," he said, turning his back to her. Not wanting to waste anymore time in her vulnerable position, Tamara quickly got to her feet and put as much distance as she could between herself and the dark sider.

"You would benefit from some yourself," Hux said. Ren was inches away from the General, attempting to be as threatening as he could. The difference between Hux and Tamara was that Hux knew he was safe, and he knew exactly where the threshold was.

Ren said nothing more, instead electing to storm out of the room. Hux looked over to Tamara, who was standing near her bedroom door, one hand rubbing her throat where Ren had been holding her.

"Are you alright, Miss Vess?" he asked, his tone shifting.

"As well as I can be," she said. "Needless to say, I'm not thrilled for the mission tomorrow."

Hux nodded once. "I'm sure that you'll appreciate the mission once it's over," he said, looking around the room. "Good night, Miss Vess."

"Good night, General," she said. He left swiftly, and she closed her eyes, leaning back against the wall. Whatever Hux meant, she had no choice but to trust him. Ren left her with no other options.

* * *

 **You'll all be happy to know that I will taking this month of April to try and knock out as many chapters as possible for this story. I'm hoping that I get a majority of it completed, and will hopefully be updating once a week! Thank you for sticking with my very erratic schedule!**


	18. Chapter 18

**In celebration of the new trailer and IX title being released today, here's a new chapter!**

* * *

The morning came far too early for Tamara's liking. She'd spent the night tossing, trying desperately to quiet her mind for just a few minutes so she could fall asleep. Even in her light sleep, her dreams were only about Ren and the various ways the mission could go wrong. She felt his gloved hand on her neck. She felt her muscles lock up completely as he used the Force against her, just as he'd done in the bar not long before. She felt the same anxiety when she woke up as she did weeks ago, all the way back to the first meeting of the leading triumvirate of the First Order. She laid in her bed, heart racing as her alarm sounded off across the room. She wasn't sure if she had even slept more than twenty minutes, but it didn't matter anymore. The sheets were tangled around her body and her back ached from the constant moving. She was sweating, and she tried to steady her breathing as her heart continued to pound relentlessly against her chest.

Even though she was exhausted from her lack of sleep, she knew that she needed to look the part. She switched the alarm off, stretching out one arm. Even though she would be affiliated with the First Order, the only way that she would be able to convince this gang that she was a legitimate threat was through her father's name. If she was able to emulate him, her chances of success were much higher, and her job would be secured. For once, she wanted to look like she was part of the Coruscanti Elite, and identity she wanted to break. The First Order was not yet a legitimate threat, and it was no secret to her that their firepower would not be as impressive as Hux would like to believe. She threw her legs over the side of the bed, leaning forward for a few seconds with her arms at her sides, her hands clutching the blankets. She was ready for this. It was the only thing she could believe. Pushing herself off the bed, she walked into the refresher and turned on the light.

She decided to break a bit from the standards set forth by the First Order. Instead of the usual tight bun, she braided her hair tightly along the sides and along the back of her head, almost in a crown-type fashion. It was a hairstyle that she'd worn often when at parties and gatherings back on Coruscant, usually hosted in some degree by her father. Even though she'd only worked on the Finalizer for what was the equivalent of a few moments, anything to break from the monotony that was the standard was welcomed. She'd already grown sick of the bun, the way it stretched her face back and framed her jaw in a hard way. She wanted nothing more than to just leave it down, but that was unacceptable. She would have her say in other ways.

It took nearly an hour, but Tamara was ready. Her makeup was applied, smoothing any unwanted lines and hiding the bags under her eyes. Her uniform was straight and clean, and not a single hair was out of place. Quickly, she shifted her greatcoat so it hung over her shoulders, much like how Hux would wear his. She needed to learn how to be as confident as he was, and if that meant that she had to fake it, she would. Exhaustion and nerves hung over her and tugged at her mind, making the ability to successfully fake her emotions that much more difficult. The events of the previous night had shaken her, and she felt as though she wouldn't be able to regain the natural confidence she usually carried herself with. The gang was not one to be taken lightly, either. In the few dealings her father had with them in the past, they seemed to be very focused on themselves, trying to better their own agenda than the others that they funded. They were aggressive, more than most others. Most of them were more machine than man. They were heavily armed and ruthless with people who betrayed them. It was a gang Tamara would avoid if she had the choice, but she didn't. Still, she needed to try. Her job likely depended on it. She picked her datapad up off the table and swiftly left her suite.

The young officer's front of confidence seemed to work as she walked through the corridors with purpose. She didn't acknowledge anyone who passed her, keeping her gaze fixed directly ahead. The officers and stormtroopers that passed her moved out of the way quickly, not wanting to cross her path. Her intense gaze said all that they needed to know – don't get in my way. The teal of her uniform flashed under the lights, and she had no shame in showing off her rank. The stern look on her face showed everyone that she was not about to stand for any game that they may want to taunt her into playing, and the power she held gave her threats weight. Below the surface, she was nervous, not at all confident. Ren was likely waiting already, and she couldn't get that thought out of her head. The last person she wanted to see was the tall, dark figure. Her hand instinctively flew up to touch her neck. There were no marks left where he'd clasped her throat, but she still could feel the lingering touch.

The walk to the hangar was uneventful, and as Tamara walked in, she scanned the massive, open room. Unsurprisingly, it was bustling with activity, with stormtroopers and officers running in every direction. Ships were preparing for departure, maintenance crews work tirelessly around them. It made sense for the hangar to be busy, considering the number of flights and departures were stepping up as the First Order's influence began to ramp up. She glanced around, searching for a shuttle that would carry her to the planet below. However, the sheer number of people was making it difficult to try and spy anything out of the ordinary. She couldn't see Ren at all, but she was able to see the massive wings of his shuttle. Letting out a breath, she walked over to the shuttle, holding her head high and letting her greatcoat fly out behind her.

As she approached, she recognized multiple figures clad in black, all standing around the shuttle. Maintenance crews were checking over the shuttle in their usual fashion, communicating in a low voice the the command centre that overlooked the hangar. None of the figures were Ren, even though they appeared to be dressed in a similar way. They all wore masks Off to the side stood Phasma, her blaster at the ready as it usually was. There was a convoy of stormtroopers that were also preparing to march into one of the stromtrooper transporters not far away from the shuttle, and Tamara was starting to appreciate just how much this mission was going to be loaded up. There was no more room for error, especially after the skirmish with Jaymiya.

The young officer walked over to the chromed stormtrooper. "Good morning, Captain," she said.

"Good morning, Miss Vess," Phasma greeted curtly. Their conversations were going to be much more formal and clipped now that they were in a professional setting. Tamara looked over at the group dressed in black once more.

"Who are they?" she asked, pulling her great coat tighter over one of her shoulders. She could count six of them, all standing relatively informally, but were still incredibly intimidating to look at.

"They are the Knights of Ren," Phasma explained. "Kylo Ren is the master of them."

Tamara had heard brief stories about the Knights of Ren, but had never seen them or heard much else. She knew that they were responsible for the destruction of the Jedi Academy that had been reinstated by Luke Skywalker before she was born. Since that time, she hadn't heard anymore stories, and that had been about six years ago. So little was known about them that they were regarded as a myth in some circles back home on Coruscant.

"Are they coming with us?" she asked.

"Yes," Phasma said, but was already starting to grow tired of her questioning. "They are to help with intimidation and backup, should it be required."

"The gang may be flaky, but I can guarantee you that they don't need this much in terms of suggestion," Tamara said. "But, I understand the reasoning."

Phasma glanced over at her convoy of stormtroopers before looking back down on the younger officer. "Ren will be here shortly," she said. "You will be in his shuttle with the other Knights. I must prepare my warriors for travel."

Tamara nodded. "I'll see you on the ground," she said with a nod, and Phasma turned away to attend to the others. Tamara looked back up to see Ren stalking toward the shuttle, and her heart dropped slightly. The nerves began to flare up, and her grip on her data pad tightened. She knew that she needed to remain cool on the outside, but it was becoming increasingly difficult when one of the men she feared more than anything in the galaxy was walking toward her almost threateningly, his hands at his sides, always close to fists. His mask didn't help his image either, and she was starting to understand the other motives for his wearing it. Intimidation was key, even though he had the skill to make good on his threats.

He approached the Knights first, and they all straightened up and saluted him as he walked by them, onto the shuttle. Two stormtrooper officers who had been flanking him made their way over to her.

"We are ready for departure," one of them said.

"Good," Tamara said, trying to keep her voice steady. "Let's not waste any time."

Both troopers moved to flank her as she walked up the ramp and onto the shuttle. The Knights watched as she walked quickly up the ramp, and she couldn't help but feel scrutinized. She didn't know who any of these people were, but it was clear that they were trained to kill, and their intimidation tactics worked. None of their faces were shown, much like Ren's, and she wondered just how many of them there were. She had always heard conflicting reports. Nonetheless, the number that would be coming with them was going to work wonders in terms of intimidation and her tactics.

They followed her up, dragging their battle gear in tow. Ren was already standing at the door to the cockpit, and the two stormtrooper officers brushed by him quickly so they could begin the departure procedures. The Knights stayed in the back area of the shuttle, and Tamara had no idea where she was to go. The last thing she wanted was to be next to Ren, especially after he'd literally taken her life into his hand the previous night. However, she wasn't so sure that the Knights were a better option. They way they carried themselves oozed confidence and power, and it was wearing on her front.

"Are you just going to stand there and look aimless, Miss Vess?" Ren asked curtly.

"Do you have a preference of where I go?" she asked.

Ren slowly turned his head, just enough so she could see the silver glint. "Up front," he said. "You are a senior officer after all."

She didn't need a second invitation, and as the stormtroopers had before her, she quickly moved past the Force user and settled into one of the passenger seats, away from all the controls that were currently being handled by the two stormtrooper officers as well as two First Order officers. The mission size seemed to be expanding by the minute, but Tamara wasn't necessarily surprised by it at all. It was going to be a large undertaking, and she wanted to create as much goodwill as she could.

Finally able to have a moment to herself, she laid her hand down on the black arrest of the chair, running her fingers along the stitching of the leather. This mission was important to the First Order, but now, she realized, it was even more important for her. The threat of not having a job had not hit her until that moment, and she glanced out the viewscreen ahead of them. The stormtrooper transporter was departing. She wondered how exactly the stormtroopers were treated, if they were told that their jobs would be in danger, or if they were simply killed if they were not performing up to task. She wouldn't put it past the leadership group, and she could only hope that senior officers were not given a similar treatment should that be the case.

No. She refused. She couldn't think about possible failure. All she could think about was securing what was needed, and hopefully, she would remain safe and secure in her current position.

The shuttle lifted off, and Ren settled in the seat across from her, his mask vigilant as they cruised outside of the hangar and out into the endless black sky. All she could hope for was that he stayed out of her way.

* * *

The shuttle landed on the unnamed planet within minutes of departure. Behind her, Tamara could hear the Knights shuffling around as the shuttle prepared to disembark. Ren was the first one out, eager to command the battalion that was surely thought of as his own. While Tamara was not in the room, she could hear everything he was saying.

"You are not here to battle," he said. "You are only here because if things go wrong, and there is a chance they will, you will need to take action. Remember what we've been practicing for the last two days, and remember what you've learned about this gang."

Tamara stood from her seat as she heard the ramp unlatch itself and hit the stone below it. Sh heard the sounds of boots clamouring down it, and pressed her datapad to her chest. The nerves were starting to fade now, as she knew she had to focus. All eyes would be on her – this was her mission. Every possible opportunity was given to her so she could succeed, and she had to take advantage of it. She let out a breath and walked out into the back area of the shuttle.

The stormtrooper transporter had landed just before the shuttle, and the stormtrooper battalion was standing in formation as they waited for their main player to step down and out of the shuttle. The steam from the pressurized cabin of the shuttle was still letting itself out, and Tamara walked confidently down the ramp. Now that she was focused, she didn't need to pretend. She knew what her job was and what she'd been told to do. She looked at Phasma and gave a nod as she stepped down onto the sandy rock of the planet. The wind whipped up around her, the golden sand pooling against her boots. The entire planet had a gold-orange tint to it, and the rocks seemed to blend in. It was a fine choice for a hideout, as she was sure the gang had many spread across the outer rim. Tamara glanced down at her datapad, which were showing the exact coordinates of the meeting. The shuttles had landed in an area of the planet that had massive cliffs jutting out from the rocky sand base, and though she couldn't see a third shuttle, she was sure they were here.

"Let's move," she called out, and tucked her datapad under her arm as she walked toward one of the larger rock formations. Phasma walked to her side, blaster pressed against her chest, chrome armour clinking and scratching at itself as she walked. The Knights had taken their positions at the group's flanks, Ren included. Their weapons were all at the ready in case they were needed, and Tamara could only hope that this meeting was one that went smoothly. The gang would be foolish to try and attack them with so much firepower at their disposal. Even though they were a feared force, they had weaknesses. The sound of their convoy was enough to intimidate anyone – even Tamara felt slightly intimidated herself. However, the feeling of empowerment was one she was not used to. While she did not outrank Ren, and didn't really outrank Phasma in reality, she was the commanding officer for the mission. She had forty stormtroopers behind her, six elite soldiers, one of the most powerful and feared Force users in the galaxy, and a chromed Captain that was known to never miss. At the head of it all, there she was, ready to command them at a moment's notice.

There was a slightly opening in one of the rock formations that became visible as they approached. "They're in there," she said. "You'll stay with me, Captain, and one of your most capable officers."

"Heard, Miss Vess," she said. "As for the others?"

"Ensure they are dispersed around the area," Tamara said. "I'm sure that Ren and yourself can position them to be as effective as possible."

"Of course," Phasma said, and dropped back to command her battalion. It was clear that by the way the Captain talked, she knew exactly what she was doing. These missions were likely not very uncommon, especially in the days when the First Order was still attempting to gain a foothold in the galaxy. Tamara let herself smirk, doing her best to hide it as she dropped her head. The power she had was making her more confident, and for once, she felt in control of the man she feared most.

She stopped before entering the small opening, waiting for her two escorts to take their places at her sides. She heard the constant calls through the modulated voices, Ren's distinct as he commanded the Knights. She felt secure, knowing that there were so many guardians. The memory of what had happened with Jaymiya was still fresh, and she never wanted to have to relive that awful experience again. This time would be different.

"Are we ready?" she asked as Phasma halted at her side.

"We are, Miss Vess," the Captain said, and another officer took his place on Tamara's other side.

"Then let's get these credits secured," Tamara said confidently, walking into the small gap.

The cave, if it could even be called that, was dark, dimly lit with small lantern-like objects that were drilled into the walls. The entire place was quiet outside of the three sets of footsteps that echoed around them. However, it was clear that it was active. There were footprints in the light dusting of sand, and the small bit of wind that could pierce its way through into the cave swirled it around their feet as they walked. Slowly, they were descending further into the ground. The rock formation was much larger than Tamara had anticipated.

They had walked for a solid two minutes before two guards appeared directly in front of them. Beside her, Tamara saw the stormtrooper officer adjust his grip on his blaster, ready in case something was to go wrong. Tamara only stared both the guards down.

The Guavian Death Gang members were hardly even human. They did not speak and they were mainly machines. Their faces resembled more of a droid than that of a human, and they communicated through frequencies. Their red and black armour was reminiscent of the First Order colours but nothing linked the two. They were armed with massive blasters, but Tamara didn't back down. She was not about to cower at two figures that were essentially droids.

"I am here from the First Order," she said as she approached, leaving about ten feet of space between her and the guards. "We have an arrangement with your leader."

The guards said nothing, and only turned to face each other, gesturing for the First Order trio to continue walking. Behind the guards, a small, thin hallway led into a much larger room, one that may have passed for a rough auditorium once. If it ever was in use, it was a farcry from its current state – barren and disintegrating. Tamara's mind began to wander, thoughts of this place once having been settled. It was possible that the gang had stolen the hideout from someone else. It would not be surprising. They weren't exactly known for being kind to anyone.

She stopped in the middle of the room, waiting. It wasn't long until another door at the opposite end of the room was shoved open and three armed figures lumbered toward them – two guards and a Unlike his guards, he distinguished himself from their red and black uniforms with his own solid black one. His sunken eyes told her exactly who he was. She'd never had any interaction with Bala-Tik before, but it was clear that he knew exactly what he was doing when it came to negotiations. He carried a blaster, pointing it down at the ground as a sign of non-aggression. Part of Tamara suddenly wished that she had her own weapon. Still, she had enough firepower standing next to her that she shouldn't be worried.

"Tamara Vess," he called out to her in his heavy accent, not too unlike her own, and she lifted her chin, clasping her hands behind her back, not wanting to be the one that broke eye contact. She knew that it was an intimidation tactic.

"Bala-Tik," she said. "I have a proposition for you."

"So I've been told," he said, closing the distance between the two of them. Phasma and the other stormtrooper officer stood just behind her, ready to defend if the need arose. There was very little trust that existed between the two, but Tamara was sure that Bala-Tik was aware of the firepower the First Order had. He surely knew how many had come to the planet in the first place.

"I see you are following in your father's footsteps," he commented. "Never figured you'd be the diplomatic type."

Tamara winced, hating to be compared to her father. She hoped that the man in front of her didn't know much else about her. "When opportunity arises, you seize it," she said. "How much are you aware of when it comes to the First' Order's status?"

"I know enough," he said. Tamara bit her tongue. This negotiation was going to be harder than she thought.

"Then you know that our forces are spread relatively thin," she said. "Our donors and backers are generous, but they don't have the connections you do."

He smiled. "The First Order has come to me to beg for money?" His tone was a taunting one, but Tamara was not about to be discouraged.

"You will be compensated, should you choose to accept the offer," she said, keeping her voice level.

"Such as?" he asked.

Tamara looked over his shoulder. "Your security soldiers," she said. "They must be expensive to maintain and ensure they stay battle-ready. Cybernetics don't come cheap, good ones that is." She glanced down at his leg, one that he every so slightly favoured when he walked.

"What's your point?" he asked sharply. Her gaze snapped up to him once more.

"We may have technology that can help you with that," she said. "For your use to expand your forces, should you choose to back us."

Bala-Tik leaned back on his heels, considering what she had to say. Tamara's jaw tightened as she watched him, hoping more than anything that he could see where she was trying to lead him to. He'd been involved in dealings such as this one before. It was no secret that the gang needed a steady stream of their own income in order to continue to operate.

"The First Order has expanded far further than I thought it ever would," he said. "The ideas, the force, it's all so admirable. As much respect as I have for your father, I do not have that kind of respect for you. Put me in contact with your General, and we have a deal." He held out his hand.

Tamara didn't even seem to care about the back-handed remark. "My officer will ensure you'll be in contact with General Hux shortly," Tamara said, clasping her gloved hand in his as they shook. "We have a deal."

"Miss Vess, there is an urgent issue outside," Phasma spoke up. Tamara turned around quickly.

"What sort of issue?" she asked, annoyed. The sound of blaster fire suddenly travelled down the hall into the auditorium.

"Resistance fighters," Bala-Tik said. His tone was dark, and Tamara glanced over her shoulder at him. "They must have intercepted something, or someone tipped them off." His tone seemed to suggest something else, and Tamara didn't want to stick around. She already had what she came for.

"Whatever the case, we need to mobilize, quickly," Phasma said. "Whoever this group is, they clearly mean business. They're giving my troops everything they can handle."

Tamara looked back toward Bala-Tik. "Does our deal still stand?" she asked.

"Even though you have led fighters to one of our hideouts, I'm a man of my word," he said. "Yes, our deal still stands. Now go, we will figure out the semantics of this deal later."

Tamara nodded. "I appreciate the meeting," she said.

Bala-Tik didn't respond, and was instead instructing the soldiers behind him where to go and how exactly to evacuate the hideout. Tamara turned her back on the gang leader and rushed out with Phasma and the stormtrooper officer pushing ahead through the cave.

"Is there anything that identifies this group?" Tamara asked.

"Nothing that I've heard," Phasma said.

 _Of course this happens again with me_ , Tamara thought to herself. She could only hope that the deal she'd sealed with the gang was going to be enough to secure her position.

"Stay behind us," Phasma said. "You will follow my two officers where they will lead to to safety. Do not try to defy my orders."

Tamara nodded. "Understood, Captain," she said. Even if she wanted to defy orders this time, she didn't have a weapon to fight back.

The three First Order members emerged from the cave to a whirlwind of golden sand and blaster fire. Green bolts shot down onto the ground, exploding sections of the rocky base, and Tamara raised her arm to shield her eyes as best she could from the flying debris and sand.

"Go, Miss Vess!" Phasma called to her. Tamara whipped he head around until she found the coloured pauldron on the stormtroopers' shoulders, knowing that they were the two officers that were to escort her. With the low visibility, their white armour was one of the few things she could point out, along with the blaster fire. She couldn't see Ren or the Knights anywhere, but she could hear the hum of their weapons as they attempted to ward off the threat. In the chaos, it was difficult to see or hear much else.

There was a second shuttle that Tamara must've missed in their departure, as it waited away from the landing site. It was much smaller than Ren's own and was likely the reason why it wasn't being fired upon.

"Quickly, Miss Vess!" one of the officers shouted back to her. Tamara clutched her datapad to her chest, her other arm acting as a crude shield as the blaster fire surrounded her. One bolt hit about forty feet away, and she crouched down as the rocky base was disintegrated not far from them. The two stormtroopers immediately fired a few shots back but they were blind. She felt a hand grab her arm as they ushered her quickly over to the shuttle's ramp, which was hardly visible in the sandstorm. It seemed to be so far away, but within a few moments, she was rushing up the ramp and it was shutting behind her. Once she was inside, her eyes darted around, spying two different officers. The stormtroopers likely needed to stay back and assist in the fighting.

"Are you not going to fight back?" she asked, racing into the cockpit and leaning over the seats, staring out at the sandy mass outside. The shuttle may be small, but it must have some sort of weapons system.

"Our orders were to get you out of here if something like this happened, not to fight back, Miss Vess," one of them said. "The Knights of Ren and the battalion has the skill to dispatch this threat. We are not needed."

As much as Tamara didn't want to leave the others behind, she knew that it would be best to get away. After all, she had done her job. She stepped back, allowing the the officers to take off. All that was left was to connect the gang to the General.

* * *

The command shuttle and the stormtrooper transporter arrived back on the Finalizer later that afternoon. There were no casualties, and the mission seemed to be a success. However, one figure was strangely quiet, and it terrified the others. As they landed in the hangar, even the Knights waited until their leader was completely out of earshot.

No one wanted to cross Ren's path. His fists were clenched tight at his sides, and the way he stomped through the corridors made even the higher ups scramble to get out of his way. Phasma was walking just behind him not wanting to set him off. Even though he'd be foolish to try and threaten her, she knew that it was not a battle worth fighting. They'd done their jobs, yet Ren was still inside his own head. They had eliminated the threat shortly after they had the message that Tamara was clear. She was not back on the Finalizer yet, much to Ren's confusion. When he was confused, he grew angry.

"What happened?" he growled at Phasma.

Phasma, clearly unhappy with the tone he took, took a moment to respond. She was weighing whether or not to reprimand him for speaking to her in such a tone, but she figured it would be better for her well-being to let him sit in his own anger and not have someone, or something, to take it out on. "Miss Vess completed the deal," Phasma said. "The Guavian Death Gang will be a supporter of the First Order now, assuming the General can assist us in ensuring they are well-compensated."

"Then this mission wasn't a complete loss," he said, his tone dark. Nothing made him more volatile than being unable to take down the threat. Whatever had been firing on them had fled the scene, and they were unable to see just who had dared to attack them. He could only hope that the General had more intel. His hopes were not high.

He scowled behind his mask as they walked into the debriefing room where Hux stood behind the round table.

"You," Ren said, pointing his finger at Hux. "You better have an explanation for what you've done."

Hux remained calm, his face unchanged. It only annoyed Ren even further. "Are you here to step out of place even further?" the General asked, his voice clipped and sharp as he challenged Ren.

"It's all so convenient, isn't it?" Ren said. The door shut behind them. "As soon as Miss Vess is clear, the firing stops. Did you think I would be so foolish as to not pick up on what's happened? You really think that little of me?"

Hux's jaw tightened. "I'm not sure if it's because of your paranoia, but I did not fire on one of the best squadrons that we have," the General said, anger and annoyance creeping into his voice. "I don't appreciate your accusations of me. You were unhappy being on the mission in the first place, so why are you making such as fuss about this? To fashion your own argument against me?"

Ren's body language clearly communicated that he wanted nothing more than to wring Hux's neck for all he was worth, but he knew that the consequences would be dire should he try. Hux knew he was safe.

"Then where did these ships come from?" Ren asked.

"They were part of a rogue Resistance band," Hux said, remaining strangely calm. Perhaps it was why he was such a successful diplomat. "Nothing more, nothing less. As far as I'm aware, the mission was successful nonetheless."

Ren seemed to have heard enough and stormed out of the room, leaving Hux and Phasma behind. It was obvious that he didn't believe the General, but the older man had sold his plan perfectly.

"Where has she been stationed?" Phasma asked.

"On an old corvette that had been sitting in one of the hangars, never in use," Hux said. "She'll find it much easier to do her work away from him."


	19. Chapter 19

The officers did not tell Tamara anything about this new development until they were diverting away from the Finalizer.

"Is there any reason we are going into the dead of space, officers?" she asked.

"We are under order from General Hux himself to station you on a different ship, Miss Vess," one said. "You will have your own corvette with your own crew, and you will be able to carry out your missions much easier."

 _Without Ren_ , she thought. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Anytime she could get away from the dark sider was welcome, and even though his interaction with her had been limited that day, she still wanted nothing to do with him. She had not seen him once she left the Knights outside the cave, and she wasn't sure if she cared. However, she didn't understand why Hux kept it from her. She would have been compliant. It would have saved her a fair amount of stress.

"Can you tell me anything more?" she asked.

"Not at the moment," the same officer said. "You will have an opportunity for your questions to be answered shortly when you're placed onto this new ship."

Even though she was annoyed that she'd been kept in the dark, it was an exciting proposition – working on her own ship with her own crew. While her work on the Finalizer was not restricted, it wasn't exactly free. She always felt as though she would be looked down upon because of the perceived nepotism, and that her job existed somewhat outside of the military ranks.

"My belongings?" she asked.

"Already on board, Miss Vess," he said.

She began to ponder what exactly had happened back on the surface. The only other person who knew of her true intense dislike for Ren was Hux, and even then, he seemed relatively unfazed by it all. She'd always assumed that she was one of the many that feared him – it was part of his job to be intimidating after all. Whether or not he was terrorizing the First Order troops and officers was a nonissue. Was it possible that the general was looking out for her in the first place?

Still, as much as she hated the man, Ren's constant warning about Hux and his plans stuck in her head. She wanted nothing more than to denounce him, but there was something in the way he said each line to her, the hatred and confidence that came from within, from a place that was deeply personal. Hux had given her no reason to doubt his actions, and he was by far the most trustworthy of the two in her eyes. Hux had never laid a hand on her or had used any sort of weapon against her, while Ren had done so twice, the second time not twenty-four hours before. He didn't exactly make it easy on himself when it came to having her believe his messages. It was just as easy for her to discount what he said simply because he was violent.

The corvette was cruising not far from the planet, but was not in orbit in order to stay away from the Finalizer and avoid any suspicious behaviour. Tamara looked out the viewscreen as they approached, and as she laid eyes on the long, sleek design of the ship, iconic during the era of the Empire, she felt the excitement rising in her again. It was her ship now, she knew. Perhaps her luck was starting to turn for her after all.

"Please take a seat, Miss Vess," one of the officers said. "You will want to stay safe as we dock with this ship."

She nodded, settling down in a seat off to the side, behind them. Still, she could see the ship as they approached, and she smiled as they connected with a bang and the shuttle shook.

"It was a pleasure working with you on board the Finalizer, Miss Vess," one of the officers said.

"Likewise," she said, standing from her spot. "Take care of yourselves, thank you for assisting me in this."

They saluted her as she walked to the back of the shuttle, where the bottom had opened and lowered itself slightly for her to step down onto. The lift would bring her down into the corvette itself, and she felt the nerves flare up again. Her own ship – every elite's dream. It was something she never thought she'd experience in her life, but now she had everything she needed. Even with the close call earlier in the day, it seemed as though everything else had gone incredibly smoothly for her.

The lift dropped, and she stood with her arms at her sides as it lowered her into the sleek, black corridor of the corvette. There were several First Order officers and crew members waiting as she stepped down.

"Welcome, Miss Vess," one of them said, stepping forward. She was dressed in the standard black First Order uniform, her blonde hair pulled tightly in a bun behind her head. "I'm Petty Officer Maricel Nova. I have commanded this corvette for many other senior officers who have been in need of my services during the reign of the First Order. I'm sure that you've had a long day so far and are likely tired, so I shall show you to your new quarters before we start getting you acquainted with everything else around this ship."

Tamara blinked, still trying to process everything. "Thank you," she said. "That would be lovely, and I'm sure I'll get the chance to meet all of you when the time comes. For now, I think I need some time to think about what's happened and clear up some business that I need to settle from earlier today."

"Of course," Nova said. "We will all get to know you due time. For now, follow me, and I'll show you to where you will be staying while you're on board."

Tamara nodded, grinning. The others that were in the small docking area began to disperse, going back to their stations. Nova turned on her heel and began to walk after them, down into the thin, black halls of the ship, winding and blinking with various consoles and computers. They were styled much like the Finalizer, she realized, and the sense of familiarly was welcomed as the petty officer ahead of her continued to move at a brisk pace. They passed shut blast doors, and Tamara's curiosity peaked, wondering what exactly was behind them. Others were opened, and she glanced inside every one she could. A majority of them looked to be storage and weapon containment, and suddenly, she felt secure. She didn't know much about the ships that the First Order used outside of their designs, but it made sense that they were all armed in a way that allowed them to manure and stay out of danger as much as possible.

"How many work on this corvette?" she asked.

"There are between sixty to seventy of us stationed here at any given time," Nova said. "There are no stormtroopers that are stationed here, however. We are all officers or former troopers ourselves who graduated through the ranks."

"And what is your story?" Tamara asked, her curiously getting the better of her.

"You will learn my story soon enough, Miss Vess," Nova said. "For now, I think you need to have some time for yourself."

The pair stopped at a large set of blast doors, and Nova punched in a security code. "You will be given the access codes to your quarters, and you will be the only one that can use them once you configure everything to your own tastes," she said. The door whooshed open, and Nova walked inside. Tamara followed her, pulling her greatcoat tighter around her shoulders.

The suite was smaller than the one she had on the Finalizer, but that was to be expected. It seemed to be much more basic, but was still elegant and luxurious in its own way. There was a couch and a coffee table spread that made up a makeshift living area, and a large viewscreen that took up an entire wall of the room. Her bed was tucked into a corner behind a pane of glass, and looked out into the stars and vastness below.

"This is wonderful, thank you," Tamara said. "I'm sure this will suit me well."

"I'm glad you like it, Miss Vess," Nova said. "My own quarters are down the hall from you at the end – should you require my assistance at any time, let me know. I will come and alert you in a few hours when you are ready to see the rest of the ship."

"Thank you, you are dismissed," Tamara said with a nod. Nova turned and left the suite, leaving Tamara alone with her thoughts. She couldn't help but break out into a massive smile. This was her space now, hers to do what she wanted with it. It seemed nearly unbelievable, but for once, she was thrilled. She walked over to the massive viewscreen, placing her hands on it and staring down into the void below. The shuttle that had brought her here was nowhere in sight, and the sandy rock planet where they'd met the Guavian Death Gang just hours before was disappearing behind them. She felt like a child, but she embraced it. To be given an opportunity such as this one was an amazing accomplishment for her, and she couldn't break the smile on her face. Knowing now that she had real power and would be hopefully part of a crew that respected her position made her feel huge relief.

The biggest thing for her was Ren. No longer would she have to worry about him tormenting her at night in her dreams, having her lose sleep, worrying about him breaking into her suite, having her life in his hand…

Tamara shook her head free of the terrible thoughts that ran through her mind. As long as Ren stayed on the Finalizer, he could not touch her. She doubted that he even knew where she was.

* * *

As promised, Nova appeared at Tamara's door later that afternoon. A majority of the crew would be off their shifts so they could meet their new commanding officer, something that Tamara would need to get used to.

The young senior officer had spent that afternoon getting acquainted with her new quarters. As the officer had said, a majority of her belongings had been brought to the ship. She would still hold her spot on the Finalizer should she ever need to make a return there, but she wanted to keep herself as far away from the ship as possible. Wherever Ren was, she wanted to be able to put as much distance between the two of them as possible. While the quarters were smaller than the ones she'd had on the Finalizer, they were much cozier. They reminded her of her room back home on Coruscant, and she wondered if everything still remained exactly as she'd left it. It wasn't long ago since she'd left. While she'd only been with the First Order for less than two weeks, it seemed like a lifetime ago since she'd left her old life behind.

"Miss Vess," Nova called.

"Come in, Officer Nova," she called. Tamara was sitting on the couch, datapad in hand. The communication lines had been opened between the General and Bala-Tik, and she hoped that they were able to smooth out a deal within the coming days.

The blonde officer stepped inside the commanding officer's quarters, but did not intrude any further. "The rest of the crew will be available for you to meet them in fifteen minutes," she said. "Would you like to see your new workstation?"

Tamara sat up, placing her datapad down on the coffee table. "Of course," she said. "I'm sure I will be using it fairly often from now on."

"Wonderful," Nova said. "If you'd follow me…"

Tamara stood from the couch and stretched her arms out, glancing behind her at the view. "I don't think I'll ever grow tired of this," she said. "It's quite the view. So different from my view back on the Finalizer."

"It's something that all commanding officers have commented on," Nova said. "I don't think anyone has ever complained about it."

Tamara smiled. "Whoever would doesn't have good taste," she said.

Nova returned the smile. "I'd have to agree with you," she said. "Shall we?"

"Yes," Tamara said, opting to leave her greatcoat behind for the time being. It was not as cool on the corvette as it was on the Finalizer, something she'd noticed within a few minutes of being in her quarters. It all seemed to be so much more relaxed, and environment didn't seemed to be as wound up. It made sense, considering the crew was much smaller, and there wasn't a constant, powerful threat that was hanging over everyone should they not succeed.

Both women walked out of the suite and down the corridor. "This stretch here is all quarters for the crew," she said. "You will not be able to hear them, even when they change shifts in the middle of the night for us."

Tamara had never considered noise to be an issue previously, but the Finalizer was such a large ship that nothing carried, especially in the living spaces. The corvette was much different considering its size, and she took it in stride. It reminded her of home – nothing too extravagant, but elegant in its own way.

"Down that corridor is all of the maintenance areas," Nova continued. "There is a dedicated crew that will always be working on something down here – you don't need to worry about them. If something goes wrong, you likely won't even hear about it."

"It's good to know that the First Order employs only the best," Tamara commented.

"You are a senior officer, Miss Vess," Nova said. "Your safety is our priority, especially with the attempt that has already been made one your life once."

Tamara glanced down at the smooth, polished black floors of the corvette's hallway. She didn't think of Jaymiya's betrayal as an attempt on her life, even though it technically was. There was something about labelling it in that way that made her seem more important than she felt. She wasn't sure how she felt about it.

"This room is where a majority of us will be eating," Nova said, stopping outside of an open door that led into a small lounge area, not unlike the one in the Finalizer. "You are by no means obligated to join us, but it would be nice should you decide. If not, a droid can bring you whatever you desire."

"Wonderful," Tamara said.

They continued down to the end of the hallway, which branched out into an open space with a few officers working at their consoles. "This is the bridge," Nova said. "If you couldn't guess by the technology."

Tamara stepped away from the petty officer to patrol around the edges, looking at what the various crew members were working on. It was a much different vibe that the bridge on the Finalizer – there wasn't an element of stress and terror that Hux instilled in everyone who dared to set foot on his bridge. The pit only had space for ten people, five on each side of the platform that ran down the middle. The bridge was smaller and rounder to fit the shape of the corvette's design, but the view was completely unobstructed. The massive viewscreens stretched all the way around, and Tamara just stood, mesmerized.

"And my workspace?" Tamara called back to Nova after a brief moment.

"If you'd follow me," the blonde woman said, turning back the way they'd come. Tamara walked slowly after the officer, slightly confused. However, they didn't leave the bridge. Instead, right alongside the entrance corridor was an office, glass panels lining the walls all around. Tamara stepped inside and smiled, running her hand along the edge of the desk. Opposite the glass wall that looked into the entrance corridor was another floor-to-ceiling view screen, and she stepped over to it. "The First Order has quite the taste for this design," she commented. "I like it."

"It's certainly a staple when it comes to the ships made for us," Nova said.

"Thank for for showing me this, Officer Nova," Tamara said, her professionalism coming back to her as she found her voice. "I'll be going back to my quarters for the day as I've nothing else to finish today, but I shall see you tomorrow when we have our first official shift together."

Nova bowed her head. "I look forward to it, Miss Vess," Nova said. "Until tomorrow."

* * *

Confusion was torment. Not knowing was eating away at Ren, not knowing how exactly to react to the situation. Tamara had not arrived back to the Finalizer, yet everyone was acting as though it was business as usual. No one seemed concerned with her sudden disappearance. He was being kept in the dark, and it angered him. She was alive, he knew. Hux would've had his head on the chopping block if she would have died in the skirmish. Sudden disappearance did not worry the General in the way Ren felt it should.

Other than anger, he was confused why he cared so much about the woman. She'd been one of the few to see his face, and even fewer still had recognized him. Maybe that's why he was so concerned – he couldn't have his identity out for the New Republic to see. If she was out there, she could be telling anyone. But why would she? She was still affiliated with the First Order. She wouldn't be so foolish as to simply discard her position. He flexed his gloves fingers, the leather creaking under the strain. He was sitting in front of a mask that he often found himself turning to when he felt such intention emotion. His grandfather, the one that he believed would guide him through his journey through the Dark side. There was not doubt in Ren's mind that he would one day be as powerful as Vader, if not more. He reached up, pushing up on latch that held his mask in place until it clicked and he lifted it off his head. He turned it in his hands, the light playing off the scarred silver lines that trailed along the face.

The confusion ate away at him. He knew that there was something else to the meeting that he just couldn't get out of his head. More importantly, he couldn't get Tamara out of his head. Why she stuck with him was haunting him, and he knew that if he showed any sentiment, it would only weaken him. Snoke was already suspicious of him, and he needed to show that he was not about to submit to the sentiments that she seemed to be bringing out from him. He knew that there was nothing to gain in growing attached, especially when he needed to remain focused. He had a goal in mind, and he could not be distracted by such trivial things like attraction and love.

The previous night was a perfect example of his volatile nature. It was why he was so feared across the galaxy. He showed no remorse, no guilt for the things he'd done. Of course, it was easy to say those things when no one saw the true emotion underneath. The mask only showed one emotion – void. It was a beautiful contrast to the way he felt inside. He took his power from his emotion – to become complacent was to become weak. It was why he despised the ways of the Jedi and rejected their teachings, among other things. He craved to be as recognized as his grandfather, to have the name recognition that Vader had. The momentary flaw in his life was one of weakness, and he'd died for it.

Ren leaned back in his chair, letting the mask slip through his fingers and onto the ground. It hit the floor with a loud bang, and he ran a hand through his hair, tousling it gently. Surely there must be answers somewhere. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to be taken back to the battle ground, the place where it had all fallen apart for him.

* * *

 _The Knights were in position. The stormtroopers were patrolling, keeping an eye out for anything strange that may crop up. There were eyes in every direction. The gang was well-hidden, but Ren was certain that their soldiers knew exactly where everyone was. He knew that it was an intimidation tactic. The gang was powerful, but they could not hold off the arsenal that was currently patrolling the perimeter of one of their hideouts. Ren's lightsaber was within a quick grasp should he need it, the Knights had their weapons at the ready as well. The stormtroopers had their blasters set to kill. All that was needed was Tamara, Phasma, and the one stormtrooper officer that had gone with them to emerge victorious, and they would be on their way._

 _Ren was still irritated with being placed on the mission. In his view, there were other things he needed to be focusing his time and energy on, ones that were personal to him and would fulfill a lifelong goal of his. Acting as a watchdog for a woman with no awareness of the greater galaxy was not exactly what he would choose to spend his time doing. However, he didn't have much of a choice. He was attempting to squash any sentiment he felt toward her – the threat from Supreme Leader Snoke had been enough to thrust himself further into developing a hatred for her. The comments she'd made the previous night stuck with him, and he grit his teeth as he replayed them in his mind._

"You think too highly of yourself."

"Not surprising considering your mother did as well."

 _It was the last comment that had set him off. She needed know her place. He already was on the receiving end of comments such as those from the General, and he was not allowed to touch the red-haired man for fear of severe punishment. It was a rule he often longed to break, but he knew that he needed to keep himself in check._

 _"Sir, we have an approaching object coming in from the north," a stormtrooper called to him. He turned._

 _"Hostile?" he snapped._

 _"Unknown, sir," the officer replied._

 _"Alert the others," he said. "If it turns out to be hostile, we will need all the blaster fire we have."_

 _"Yes sir," the officer said before hurrying away. Ren placed his hand on his lightsaber, annoyed. Of course their location would've been found out at some point. It seemed to be a given when Tamara was on the mission. Movement by the First Order was tracked by the Resistance, and as much as they tried to throw their enemies off the trail, a divergence to an uncharted planet would come up as suspicious._

 _Ren stared up at the approaching object, ready in case it started to fire on them. The blowing sand allowed for limited visibility, which was both an asset and an annoyance._

 _Green blaster bolts fired down at the group, and Ren ignited his lightsaber, ready to defend should anything drop from the ship. However, it swooped down overhead before pulling back up. Ren turned quickly, watching as it disappeared into the cloud._

 _"Track this thing," he said into his comm. "If it's going to fight us from the sky, I want all fire on it. Get Miss Vess and Captain Phasma out of there. We need to mobilize."_

 _He couldn't see the ship as the blaster fire had exploded a large chunk of the sandy rock that made up the base of the planet and had added to the obscured vision. However, he could hear the ship circling, and his lightsaber crackled as he clutched it tightly. Whatever this thing wanted, it was clearly trying to take the easy way out. Unfortunately for whoever was piloting the thing, they were not be able to fight to their advantage for very long._

 _He ducked down as he heard more blaster fire, the bolts hitting the rock formations above him. The orange-golden rock pieces rained down upon him, drenching his black cloak in fine golden dust. When he lifted his head again, the ship had disappeared, but the blaster bolts continued to rain down upon them. The low visibly had made the accuracy of the shots extremely low. The stormtroopers were fighting back with all the firepower they had, but their own shots were proving difficult to land._

 _"Miss Vess and Captain Phasma are on their way out," a stormtrooper officer called into their comm. Ren turned, unable to see the opening to the cover where they'd disappeared into. Surely they would be able to get out safely. As much as he didn't personally care for the others on the mission, it would be his head on the chopping block should someone perish._

 _Phasma's commanding voice rang out across the battlefield as she emerged from the sand. Ren turned his head toward the chromed stormtrooper, noticing that she was not accompanied by anyone. He glanced around quickly, searching for any sign of the senior officer they were meant to protect. He saw a glimpse of teal among the flying sand walking toward a very faint silhouette of a ship – one that had not been there before. One that had no marking. It was placed far too conveniently. The blaster bolts from the circling ship did not seem to fire in that general direction. It was all too perfect, all to convenient…_

* * *

He opened his eyes slowly. The proof wasn't enough, but he hoped that he could sway the Supreme Leader into believing that it was all a setup by the general, one that had no ground to stand on. He snapped the mask back on his head and walked out of the small room. All Ren could do was hope that his word would be enough.


	20. Chapter 20

A week passed, and Tamara was the happiest she'd felt in years. She didn't feel the rising dread in her when her alarm went off the morning, her sleep schedule had improved massively, and her newfound power was a sensation she could get used to. She loved being able to have some sort of control. She was always cautious about being overbearing, and she stepped away from her commanding duties when Officer Nova walked onto the bridge. She was able to focus on her work, and with the deal between the First Order and the Guavian Death Gang confirmed, she felt secure. Maybe she was cut out for this job after all.

"Why the Deep Core?" Mitaka asked. Tamara leaned back in her chair, using her index finger to individually crack her knuckles – a nervous habit she was unable to break. She was already targeting places to spread the First Order's message in an attempt to gain more support for the cause, and she needed guidance on where to start. She'd contacted one of the few people on the Finalizer she trusted in order to assist her. His holographic form was standing in front of her desk, his posture formal, as he stood in a room that was in view from the bridge. Tamara had no doubt that Hux was watching.

"The Deep Core has a massive sphere of influence," she said.

"That also makes it much more difficult to target," Mitaka pointed out, straightening his hat. "Their value systems are very much set. They are happy in the New Republic. I seriously doubt it'll change, with all due respect to your abilities."

Tamara give him a small grin. "But there's no shame in trying, is there?" she asked somewhat rhetorically.

"Of course not," Mitaka said. "But you must be aware of the risks and the challenges that you are facing, because they are going to pile up in front of you, and if you are not aware of a majority of them, they will become insurmountable."

"I know," she said. "I grew up on a Deep Core planet. I think we may have a chance if we target the elites of these planets. A majority will be like my father – raised in the age of the Empire, grew to their status because of the Empire. The First Order can restore that hope once more."

Mitaka shrugged his shoulders. "If it's something you want to pursue, you will hear no argument from me," he said.

"I appreciate it," she said, glancing down at her desk.

"You seem much happier there," he commented, dropping the level of his voice.

Tamara let her hand fall back down to lay flat on the desk. "I am," she said. "The stress is mostly gone. It's much…cozier here. It reminds me of home."

"I can see it in your face that you look more relaxed," he said. "What you put up with here, I have no idea how you didn't walk out."

"That wasn't an option for me," she said. "At least the General had the space for me to have my own ship with my own workspace."

"You're a valuable asset, no matter what any of the other senior officers think," Mitaka said, and glanced over his shoulder. "General."

Tamara sat up straighter in her seat as Hux entered the holographic space, appearing in front her desk. "Lieutenant," he greeted sharply with a nod of his head. He looked over to where she was sitting, silently observing. "I have a new mission for you, Miss Vess."

"And what would that be, General?" she asked. Mitaka stepped back as he sensed his time was drawing to a close.

"There is a planet I'm sure you know," Hux said. "One that would benefit from our intervention."

"What planet is this?" she asked.

"Naboo," he said. "There are riots all across the streets, protesting the First Order. Obviously, the Queen does not want to have to divert her resources to ensuring that they are kept under control. Bring this up with her. If Naboo is allied with us, it would be a major asset in this war."

Tamara nodded. "They were once an Imperial planet," she said. "Perhaps I can use that to my advantage."

"I shall leave the fine details up to you, Miss Vess," he said. "Your efforts to secure an alliance with the Guavian Death Gang have not gone unnoticed."

Both Mitaka and Hux suddenly turned. Tamara could tell immediately who had entered the room by the faces of the two men. Mitaka's face was frozen in fear, while Hux's face was a mix between hatred and slight intimidation.

"Snoke demands an audience, General," Ren's voice barely came across on the hologram, but Tamara remained silence.

"Very well," Hux said before turning back to Tamara. "You know what to do."

"Yes, General, thank you," she said with a nod, and he disappeared from the hologram. Mitaka's face relaxed and she leaned back in her chair to assume a more casual position.

"You seem to be more afraid of Ren than I was," she commented. Mitaka shook his head.

"He's been insufferable recently," he said, dropping his gaze.

"Is that so?" she asked. "Why?"

"He's very mistrusting of the General since that mission," Mitaka said. "Something about the entire battle being fabricated."

"He's correct."

"He is, but he doesn't need to know that."

Tamara sat up. "I'd love to chat with you further, Dopheld, but I think General Hux wants me to get to work on this Naboo mission."

"Of course," Mitaka said with a bow of his head. "Good luck Tamara."

She gave him a nod. "Until next time."

The transmission cut off, leaving her alone in his office once more. She was not surprised about Ren's outburst and his alleged attitude, but why he was still stewing over the brief skirmish was something she was completely unsure of. It didn't affect him, nothing bad happened, there were no injuries let alone casualties. The ship that had fired down on them was an unmanned ship, one that was used for air combat training. It didn't seem to be much of a danger, and it had been enough to get her to her new ship, a place she now loved.

Tamara turned to her console. She knew that time was of the essence whenever Hux gave her another mission. Naboo was waiting.

* * *

It was at night when Tamara would go and spend time with her crew in a more casual setting. Around nine at night, she would call for everyone who was off their shift to come to the lounge for a drink and some food. She had met nearly everyone on the corvette now, and most had taken a liking to her and the new culture she was installing. It was clear that she was still learning what it took to be a leader of a First Order ship, but she had her right hand at her side.

Officer Nova was a woman that Tamara was starting to grow close to. She was stern, but it was clear the First Order had not conditioned the humanity out of her just yet. She was driven, eager to please. On more than one occasion, Tamara had to tell Nova to relax when it came to tasks around the corvette.

That night was no different. Tamara was the first in the lounge, having just finished collecting information about the Naboo riots and various other things she wanted to bring up regarding her newest mission.

"Miss Vess, good to see you again," the bartender smiled as she walked in.

"You as well," Tamara said with a nod.

"The usual wine?" he asked.

"Please," she said, taking her usual seat at the head of the long row of tables that had been pushed together. "Do you mind masking the announcement today?"

"Not at all," the bartender said as he brought over her favourite bottle of wine. "What's keeping you from it today?"

Tamara rested her chin on her hand. "I received a new mission from General Hux," she said. "It's taken a lot out of me mentally."

"Understandable," he said, uncorking the bottle and pouring her a generous 8 ounce glass. "I'll be back shortly."

She gave him a nod of thanks before resting her elbows on the table and clasping her hands in front of her. The real reason was that she was still thinking about the call she'd had with Mitaka. She didn't know why her mind was starting to go back to Ren. It had been a wonderful week where she needed need to hear his modulated voice, see the mask, void of all emotion, staking around the bridge. It had been a week that had been interrupted by a brief moment, one that wasn't supposed to have existed.

"You're in your own head again."

Tamara glanced up as she saw Officer Nova sit off to her right. "I still have work on my mind," she said, setting one of her hands on the base of her wine glass. "Trying to plan a mission is even more exhausting work than I imagined."

"You're also attempting to get to a planet that has been hostile toward political diplomats," Nova said.

"I'd like to imagine I'm not one of those," Tamara said, her gaze pointed down at the golden liquid in the glass.

"You are," Nova said. "Whether you like it or not. But that's not the point. Anyway, we're supposed to be relaxing. We're off our shift now, let's relax."

Tamara smiled and lifted her wine glass, taking a small sip. "I'm glad that I have you to lean on," she said.

* * *

It took a few days for Tamara's research to be fully completed. She learned all she could about the riots that were happening across the planet. Naboo's government was very reluctant to do anything about the First Order, wanting to avoid any type of aggression, but the riots were starting to get out of hand. They could not keep their troops back on the planet when they could be used elsewhere. It was a situation that Tamara was confident she could exploit.

The commanding officer was standing in her refresher, getting ready for her meeting with Naboo's Queen. She was not expecting an easy negotiation. Ever since the fall of the Empire and the years prior, Naboo had been very hesitant to allow visitors with a political agenda. It was not an idea situation, but it was a reality that Tamara needed to accept. She was braiding her hair tightly in the crown-style she was starting to adopt in her daily life. Now that she could create her own rules about dress, she was no longer required to have her hair pulled into a skin-tight bun. She had relaxed a fair amount of rules around the corvette, hoping that her crew appreciated the changes. Of course, there were the odd ones that appreciated the older style of doing things, but Tamara had learned to not care. She was getting the results that she wanted, and as far as she was concerned, she was doing exactly what the First Order wanted.

"Miss Vess?" a muffled voice from behind the door asked. Tamara turned.

"One moment, Officer Nova," she called back, pinning the braid to the back of her head. She turned her head from side to side, examining her work. With a small smile, she strode out of the refresher and opened the door to her suite.

"Your shuttle will be ready shortly," Nova said. "You will have two stormtrooper officers with you, but nothing else."

Tamara leaned against the door frame. "Any reason why?" she asked.

"Attention mostly, Miss Vess," Nova said. "The last thing we want to do is intimidate them too much. These officers are trained – you'll be fine. Don't worry too much."

"That's not what I'm worried about," Tamara said. "I've had a mission that went dark very quickly. But, I suppose I'll have to make the best of it."

"You'll only be there for a few hours," Nova said, trying to spin the mission in a positive light. "Maybe less if you can talk them into a deal sooner."

"That's the goal," Tamara said. "Thank you, I'll be out shortly."

"Alright," Nova said. "I shall alert you when the shuttle has docked."

Tamara nodded and shut the blast door as Nova walked down the corridor toward the bridge. The commanding officer didn't know how to feel. Nerves were starting to take hold of her again, and she hoped that the two officers that would accompany her to Naboo were confident that they could dispatch as many enemies as possible if needed. She walked over to her closet, wondering if there was any sort of weapon she could use to defend herself should the need arise. However, there was nothing. It wasn't surprising. She didn't want to alert anyone by asking for a weapon either. She trusted the stormtroopers, she knew that they were they were because of their work ethic and skill. She was sure that they would protect her should she need it. She pulled on the remainder of her teal first order uniform, straightening it out and smoothing the lines. Even though she was taking liberties with her appearance, she still looked like a First Order officer – a force to be reckoned with.

She felt the ship shake slightly, and knew that the stormtroopers had arrived and the shuttle had docked. She gave herself one more look before she stepped out of the refresher once again. Nova would be calling for her shortly.

* * *

Naboo was one planet that Tamara had never visited. She spent a majority of her life on two planets – Coruscant and Corulag, which brief trips to other planets in the Deep Core. Never did she travel to the Mid Rim, though she'd heard many stories about it. She knew that the Emperor had been born on the planet, and it was traditionally an Imperial-aligned planet. What she lacked in experience she made up for in the research she'd done previously, and she was feeling much more confident going into a negotiation now that she didn't have the internal stress of dealing with Ren's constant presence. For once, she'd be going alone, without having to rely on Ren for protection.

The shuttle approached the lush planet, and Tamara stood between the two seats where the stormtrooper officers were sitting, controlling the shuttle. She wanted her first glimpses of Naboo to be pleasant ones, not ones that would be filled with political anger and fear once she landed. She would not have the time to see the planet once she had touched down, but she still wanted to be able to witness its beauty, even if it was fleeting.

The shuttle descended into the atmosphere, heading directly for the massive human capital of Theed. The Royal Palace was visible among all of the architecture, and she grinned as they flew overhead. The entire scene was gorgeous, with lush, green mountains surrounding the city. Water bodies seemed to be intentionally placed where they sat, creating a truly beautiful landscape. The architecture was in harmony with the surrounding area, something that was foreign to Tamara. It was a ferry from her home planet, one that was cityscape. She didn't know if there was truly an environment of Coruscant, and she didn't know what nature had to offer. Corulag was not nearly as developed as Coruscant was, which was her little escape when she would study. If she wasn't on Naboo for a mission, she might've wanted to stay and appreciate everything the planet had to offer.

The shuttle touched down and Tamara backed up from the seats. "At my side, both of you," she said. "I don't want either of you straying when there are only three of us. Understood?"

"Yes, Officer," they said in unison.

"Good," she said. "Keep your guard up. They may not take too kindly to us being here because of our political affiliations. Let me do the talking."

"Yes, Officer," the response echoed.

"Good," she said. "Let's move."

The ramp lowered to the shuttle, and Tamra strode out. She didn't feel as though she had to fake her confidence this time. She felt rejuvenated, even alive. To be able to complete her missions on her own was a freedom she had not experienced, and it was a freedom she could get used to. Her chin was forward and her greatcoat trailed lightly behind her as the trio stepped down into the temperate air. Tamara wanted to close her eyes and revel in the environment, to breathe in the clean air that was not stale or filled with pollutants and Maker-knows what else. However, she was here on a mission, and she needed to respect that. Maybe when she was off duty, she could come back and experience Naboo as a tourist, but now was not that time.

Royal guards met them as they waited outside of the shuttle. The stormtroopers had their blasters at the ready, pressed firmly against their chests, but ready to activate at a moment's notice. The ornate uniforms of Naboo's guards were somewhat of a culture shock to Tamara. She'd learned of them in her classes and through her research, but seeing them in person was an entirely different experience. She tried to keep her face neutral as they approached her.

"Officer Tamara Vess," one of them said. "The Queen is of the understanding that you have an urgent message."

"That is true," Tamara said with a nod.

"Follow us," the guard said. "Quickly."

Tamara looked confused, but continued after the group of guards nonetheless. They outnumbered them two to one, and they had surrounded the small party. Tamara's jaw tightened as two walked at her side, and two more walked just behind her, watching the stormtroopers. Having her every move analyzed was not something that was new to her, but she felt as though having as many guards as were around them was slightly unnecessary.

The halls of the Royal Palace emulated the natural beauty the planet already had within. It had an elegance to it that flowed effortlessly with the rest of the architecture – a much-needed break from the constant black and silver of the First Order's ships. Unlike Coruscant, which seemed to be obsessed with building up as high as possible, the palace itself was not as massive or overbearing as the towers that she'd grown used to. The space was another thing that added to the aura of the planet. One day, Tamara thought.

She shut her eyes for a moment as she attempted to regain her focus. As beautiful and different as Naboo was, she had a very important negotiation ahead of her. If she could secure a deal with Naboo, it would be huge for not only the First Order, but for her personal gain as well. If this went well, she'd all but be completely secured in her position. Entertaining that thought was a guilty pleasure.

They were escorted into the Queen's massive throne room, which was open yet filled with guards. As Tamara walked by, she stole a quick glance to the side where they stood, and nearly every single one had a blaster at the ready. Maybe it was an intimidation tactic, or maybe they were serious about protecting their monarch. Either way, Tamara's trust in the officers that flanked her increased tenfold at the sight.

The Queen was sitting on a relatively simple throne, but her outfit matched the elegance of the planet she ruled. Her red headdress was ornate, embedded with jewels and beads, and rose high above her head, her lips were styled in the traditional way. Her skin was powdered white, and she had two red dots under her eyes. She looked like a Queen in her own right – confident and all-knowing. Tamara wanted to emulate her as much as possible.

"Your Majesty," she said, bowing her head in a show of respect. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with me."

The Queen lifted a hand in a dismissing fashion. "I have allowed you here on conditions that I am not happy about," she said. "You best have a reason for coming here that is not political."

Tamara smiled. "It is not political, my Queen," she said. "This is a business proposition, one that can benefit both of us."

The Queen's eyes bored into Tamara's and the two women refused to break eye contact. Who was going to blink first?

"Go on," the Queen said.

Tamara bowed her head. "I am aware of the riots that have been taking place here on your planet," she said.

"Riots caused by your own force," the Queen said, clearly unimpressed.

"And that I why I'm here, your Majesty," Tamara continued. "You have resources that you'd like to allocate elsewhere, I'm sure. I know that the riots have not been good for your guards. By spreading your resources thin, your defences are lowered and you are much more vulnerable."

"What do you suggest?" the Queen asked, growing tired.

"I can give you resources on how to quiet the riots," Tamara said. "I can provide you with what you need to ensure you are not hurting your own people, and you are trying to better their lives. If we have a deal, I will be happy to discuss the fine details."

The Queen seemed indifferent. "As far as I see, the riots will stop when the First Order falls," she said in a monotonous voice. Tamara bit her tongue to keep from firing back. "However, you seem to have some knowledge of Naboo's needs and my sworn duty to my people. I will need twenty-four hours to deliberate this."

Tamara blinked, but nodded nonetheless. "Of course, you Majesty," she said with another bow of her head. "I will return to my corvette and wait for your response."

The Queen said nothing, only gesturing toward the trio. Six guards surrounded them once more, and Tamara turned on her heels, walking between the stormtroopers who stared straight ahead, waiting for her to pass. When the last bit of fabric that flowed out from her greatcoat had passed, they turned, flanking her jut as they had done many times before.

The meeting was a short one, and Tamara was fuming under the surface. How the Queen was able to command such a rich and bountiful planet when she was barely interested in anything said seemed to be a fault of the Naboo people themselves. Still, she hoped that the brief meeting was enough, and she'd have a response shortly.

* * *

It was business as usual back on the corvette. When Tamara arrived, no one spoke to her. Even Officer Nova, who greeted her as the trio walked out of the lift and into the corridors did not say anything other than a nod when she saw the look on her commanding officer's face. Tamara brushed past her crew members, heading directly for her office. She walked quickly, not wanting to speak to anyone.

She reached the bridge and turned toward her office. "Stay here," she order the stormtroopers, not bothering to look back at them. They stationed themselves outsider her office as she quickly began to reach the Finalizer. It was a call she was dreading, but she knew that Hux would want an update on the status of the mission. She just hoped that she'd maintained enough goodwill to stay on the proper side of the First Order's threshold of efficient and worthwhile staff members.

Absent-mindedly, she cracked her knuckles as she waited for a response. The thought of being chewed out was starting to mount, and she hoped that the General was in a good enough mood to look past it. The mission wasn't a failure – yet. It still had some potential to completely fail on her, but she hoped that there was enough that she could exploit in order to secure some sort of deal.

The comms connected and Tamara was the first to speak. "I have news regarding the mission to Naboo," she spoke clearly, giving off the complete opposite impression of what she felt. She was thankful that she wasn't required to show a hologram of herself.

"Go ahead, Miss Vess," said the voice on the other line, and the young woman snapped her head back. The voice was not Hux's, or even Phasma's. It was a voice she didn't want to hear – modulated and cold. Ren. She shook her head slightly.

"Sir, with all due respect, isn't taking transmissions from me a touch below your grade?" she asked.

"I am a commander of this ship, Miss Vess," he said, referring to the Finalizer. "I can designate whatever I want."

He danced easily around the question, and Tamara figured it wasn't worth it to pressure him any further. While he may be systems away, she still feared him, and she knew that there was a chance he would hunt her down if she said the wrong thing.

"I have met with the monarch of Naboo," she began. "I gave her all the information I had to attempt to strike a deal. She told me that she will need twenty-four hours to think about the proposition I've given her. I will stay in orbit, waiting for the final answer."

There was silence at the other end, and Tamara pressed her fingernails into her palm.

"I shall pass this along to General Hux and the Supreme Leader," he said finally, and the transmission cut. Tamara stared down at her desk. Rea was impossible to get a read on, and she hoped that the news was not as detrimental as her mind pressured her into thinking.

She glanced up at the door as Officer Nova approached. The commanding officer gestured the other woman to come forward.

"Miss Vess," Nova greeted.

"Officer Nova," Tamara said back with a nod. "Is there something urgent?"

"Nothing urgent, Miss Vess, I was simply coming by to receive any orders."

Tamara sat up in her chair. "Stay in orbit," she said. "I want to remain close in case anything new happens, but keep an eye out for any enemy fighters. I am not going to take any chances with the hostility of this planet and the unsureness of the Queen."

"Heard, Miss Vess," said Nova, and walked out of the glass office, leaving Tamara alone with her thoughts once more. The young officer leaned back in her chair, pressing one hand to the side of her temple and ripping off her First Order cap. She didn't know why she was beating herself up so harshly over the way the Queen had reacted. It should've been an expected result. Naboo wasn't about to be intimidated by the First Order with their strong connections to the New Republic. She could just hope that the leaders of the First Order, the ones who would decide her fate, saw it in a similar way.

She looked up at the two stormtroopers who were standing guard of her office. Surely, their services wouldn't be needed any further. She stood, walking out to where they stood, planted on either side of the door.

"You two are both dismissed," she said. "Officer Nova will assist you in anything that you need for the next twenty-four hours. I will call for you in morning when we are to make our descent to Naboo."

"Yes Miss Vess," they said, saluting her. She leaned against the door frame as they left, and she watched as they disappeared around the corner. The rest of the crew was busily working away on the bridge, Nova walking along the raised platform and ensuring everyone was doing as they were supposed to. Tamara pushed herself off the frame, walking over to the blonde woman.

"See to it that the stormtrooper officers are given what they need to stay here for the night," Tamara said. "I doubt we will be hearing anything further from the Queen today. I will assume command of the bridge while you're away."

Nova's grey eyes stared her down. "Of course, Miss Vess," and she briskly walked after the stormtrooper officers. Tamara stared out through the viewscreen at the planet below, hoping that the Queen would have something positive for her in the morning.


End file.
